


Do I Wanna Know

by blahblahblahblah



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, First Times, Gay Sex, M/M, Manipulation, Peter is 17, Rimming, Slow Burn, Uncle Tony Stark, Uncle/Nephew Incest, mob!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:08:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 42,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27573569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blahblahblahblah/pseuds/blahblahblahblah
Summary: The one where Peter is homeless and he is very surprised to find that his favorite uncle Tony is a mob moss. Cue Peter charming the fuck out of Tony's entire empire and especially Tony...and a certain self righteous solider...***Some updates are just edits, I'm going through and fixing a few things :)
Relationships: Peter Parker/Steve Rogers, Peter Parker/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 294
Kudos: 759





	1. Chapter 1

It felt like he was being watched. Not that Peter knew what that felt like exactly, but something felt off. He glanced behind, again, but saw nothing. Still, he wrapped his thin jacket tighter around his body and walked a bit faster. His senses were screaming at him to get inside, and quickly.  
Peter couldn’t remember the last time he was warm. It felt like years since May had died, even though it had only been a little more than eight months. He could still remember her hand going cold in his. Sometimes it was like all the warmth in Peter’s world left with her. 

Looking around, Peter knew he didn't recognize the area, only that it looked like an older part of the city. Buildings with boards on the windows ran up and down the street. Stopping to get his bearings, Peter glanced across the street. Rusted chains barred the door to an abandoned church directly opposite him. Considering his options and the rapidly freezing temperature, he reasoned that he needed to find somewhere to sleep tonight. Looking up at the sky and seeing the first flurries start to drift down. 

Well, the church would do as well as any. He knew he wouldn’t be able to break through the chain on the front door, but as he examined the building, his eye caught on a board that had been ripped off on one of the windows on the back left side. As small as we was now, and how many meals he'd been forced to go without, he could easily break the window and climb in. Crossing the street, Peter looked both ways, hoping there were no witnesses to his most recent act of breaking and entering. Searching the ground for something to break the window, Peter came up empty.  
Kicking an empty can, Peter muttered a curse. Apparently, for once, the city of New York was devoid of any garbage that might prove useful to the right person. 

Coming up short, Peter chastised himself: What would May think of him if she knew how low he’d sunk? Here he was, angry that he couldn't find anything nearby to help him break into a church. What kind of person was he? He felt his throat begin to feel tight but clenched his jaw. He had been raised better than this, but what did that matter now? Taking a deep breath, and angrily wiping at his eyes, Peter fumbled for his resolved. May would understand; he was only trying to get warm so he wouldn’t freeze to death.  
His life hadn't always been like this. Him and May never had much, but it was enough. When she died, it was all he could do just to pay for the burial. There was nothing left when for him to live off of after everything was said and done. Peter had hoped that Tony would – but no. Peter had heard nothing from his uncle. He didn’t even know if Tony knew May was gone. He'd tried every way he could think of to get ahold of the man, but it was as if he disappeared. When Peter lost May, he'd lost everyone. 

It didn’t matter, Peter reminded himself angrily. Him and may hadn't mattered to Tony, why should Tony matter to him? God only knew what had been more important than his dying sister. Or his newly orphaned nephew. The nephew that he'd taught to drive, that he'd taken to Coney Island for the first time, the one he'd taught to tie his tie for that decathlon in Washingt – no. Taking a deep breath, Peter brought his focus back to the present. Snow. Shelter. He needed to get inside. What he really needed was to break that window. Hardening his resolve, Peter considered his options.  
He remembered an alley not too far behind him and if he was lucky, the dumpster would be unlocked. He might be able to find something there. Turning around, Peter hesitated, feeling yet again as if we weren’t alone. He just need to get inside. Then he'd be safe. Heart racing, Peter started back the way he'd come, walking as fast as his frozen muscles could carry him. 

Footsteps echoed in the street somewhere behind him. He stopped to listen and glance behind, but whatever he had heard stopped too. Maybe he should turn around; there’s bound to be something around the church he could use to break that window. Maybe he didn't look close enough. Maybe he could use his elbow? He’d seen that in a movie once, that Tony took him -- No, he reminded himself, keep moving you’re already halfway there. As Peter began his trek again, so did the steady gait behind him. By the time he made it to the alley Peter was panicking, his heart pounding in his chest, breath coming fast. Eyes landing on the dumpster, Peter ducked behind it and held his breath, waiting silently. At first there was nothing, just he quiet sound of his breathing. Just as he was about to move from his crouch, two figures paused at the mouth of the alley. Peter covered his mouth with his left hand, his right bracing himself on the ground. He was almost gasping at this point, his body trembling. 

“Aw, come on White,” the smaller man whined, “he got away. Let’s just head back to Sister Margaret’s, it’s colder than Widow’s puss –"

The taller of the two, White, the man had called him, just tilted his head as his friend danced from foot to foot trying to stay warm. There were streetlights, but they didn't help Peter get a good luck at the men. And they were both men, Peter realized, as the second one snarled a throaty “Quiet!” White turned to his friend and began speaking furiously in a hushed voice. 

Peter stilled at that voice. He’s heard it before, but where? Brow furrowing, Peter attempted to shift further behind the dumpster. There was about a foot of space between it and the wall. Peter figured that if he could just hide long enough, he could shift to the side of the dumpster facing the opening of the alley and make a break for it. He was small, but years of bullying in school taught Peter how to run. 

He almost made it behind the dumpster when his foot hit the bottle. Peter froze, hoping the two men hadn’t heard it as they argued. He looked up just in time to see the smile flash across White’s face. 

“Think he got away, huh? Nah, I think the little shit is right where I want him,” White said gleefully. He began his stalk into the alley, flicking out a knife as he came closer to Peter’s hiding spot. The shorter of the two rubbed his hands together excitedly, following closely behind White. The tall man turned quickly and shoved the shorter man back to the mouth of the alley. “Get back Mick, and don’t let our meal ticked scurry outta here,” he snapped. “I ain’t letting the twink run off this time. Stark wants this boy, and he’s offering a pretty penny for him.”

Stark? Peter didn’t know the name. What could he want with Peter? In all these months of living on the streets, he’d only stolen from Mr. Delmar the one time and –. 

“Gotcha.”

Peter gasped as a hand was suddenly gripping him by his hair and yanking him forward onto his knees. Peter cursed himself. If he hadn't let himself be distracted by his thoughts, he would've noticed White creeping towards him before it was too late. As it was, the hand grabbing his hair wrenched his head up and back, forcing him to look into the face of his attacker. The small boy could just make out hard black eyes glinting in the dim light and was met by a roguish smile that crinkled the mans face as he looked upon his prize. 

Peter had always thought that bad guys would, well, look the part. His imagination conjured up clothes as dirty as his own, maybe a wicked scar cutting across his face like lightening, or at least an unappealing smell. But this man had none of those characteristics. For one, the lack of scar might have Peter describing this man as handsome in other circumstances. What little he could make out of the other man’s clothes, appeared all black, except for the red scarf dangling from his neck. 

Peter began to struggle, trying to pull out of the taller man’s grasp. The boy cried out as he was shoved forcefully against the dumpster. The cold metal of the dumpster against his back barely registered when the knife settled against the burning skin of his throat. Forcing himself to still, Peter met the eyes of man named White. He couldn't say what provoked him, only that he found his left eyebrow arching defiantly, feeling the knife press harder into his neck. Don’t piss him off Parker, the voice in his head warned. He shifted his eyes to the wall behind man. White smirked and turned his head back to his accomplice barking out an order, “Call Stark’s man, the Soldier. Tell him what we found.”

He didn’t know who this Stark man was but going by the knife at his throat and the iron grip on his scalp, Peter was pretty sure he never wanted to. With White’s attention on his partner, Peter began screaming. Surely someone would hear him and come to see what all the noise was about at least. He was only a kid. He didn’t want to die. God, he especially didn't want to die like this. In dark alley. What a pathetic cliche, he thought to himself. The first cry for help had barely left his mouth before White backhanded him across the face. The relentless grip on his hair suddenly released. Peter felt something hard hit the back of his head as the force of the hit sent him flying backwards. Reaching his hand back, he felt wet warmth on his fingers. The boy scrambled backwards but his back only met cool metal and he could go no further. Holding himself upright with one hand, Peter attempted to focus on his attacker, but the edges of his vision were beginning to darken. 

“Unfortunately, Mr. Stark wants you alive,” White spoke down to him. 

Fighting coming darkness, Peter gathered the last of his strength and held out his bloody hand, warding against White. Batting his hand away as if he were nothing more than a child, White's hands reached out and lifted him easily. The last thing Peter noticed before he drifted off was the red puddle in the snow where he’d been lying on the ground.

The first thing Peter became aware of was that something was covering his face. Attempting to lift his hands to face, he found he couldn’t. It took the boy a moment to realize his hands were tied behind his back. Panicking, Peter attempted to pull his hands free. Surely if he just kept pulling, he could slip out of whatever was holding him. He struggled briefly before hands were grasping him by the shoulders and forcing him to still.

“Stay still and stay quiet. Stark said he wanted you found alive. Didn’t say he wanted you in one piece,” his attacker said. White, Peter’s mind supplied. His name was White. 

Peter willed himself to stay still and assess what little he could of his current situation. He was definitely in car, he determined, as the vehicle screeched to a jolting stop. Peter jerked forward, only the hand holding the back of his shirt stopping him from flying out of his seat. 

“Keep quiet,” White muttered near his ear, pushing against Peter’s chest until he was sitting upright again. 

The sound of a window being rolled down introduced a new voice into the car. 

“You better not be fucking around, White,” the voice growled. “He ain’t in the mood for your games tonight.”

White barked out a laugh. “You let me handle your boss, Soldier. I got exactly what he wants right here,” he said, patting Peter on the shoulder. “I found him.”

The silence was tense. The only thing Peter could here was the sound of his heart beating so hard he thought it would burst out of his chest. Peter was having a hard time accepting his current situation. One moment he’d been just looking for a place to stay warm for the night, the next he’d been kidnapped, thrown into a car with a bag over his head, and apparently hand-delivered to someone named Stark who had it out for him. Peter still couldn’t think of a reason for the man to want him. He couldn’t think of a reason for anyone to want him, actually. 

“Bullshit,” the third man finally said.

Someone else in the car began giggling manically. It must be the other man from the alley, Peter realized. 

“Oh, it’s him alright. Been following him for weeks,” he laughed. 

“Tell Mr. Stark I found his toy and I expect my reward,” White said. Peter could hear the smile in his voice. 

It seemed like ages before the third person spoke again, but this time he wasn’t speaking to them. “Bucky,” he began, “tell boss White’s here. Says he found the kid.”

A short drive later, Peter found himself being pulled roughly from the car and walked up several steps before the bag was finally removed from his head. He gratefully dragged in fresh air. Clearly, he wasn’t the first person who’d had to wear that bag and Peter felt confident he’d just smelled every one that came before him. Blinking rapidly to adjust his eyes to the sudden brightness, Peter tried to make sense of his surroundings. 

He was standing in the hall of what must be the most opulent home he’d ever been in. Mahogany wood made up the walls and the floor of the hallway he stood in. The boy traced his eyes down the hall to his left. No doors, only large black oil paintings of strangers covered the walls. Looking down, he noticed the blood red carpet with gold thread beneath his feet. Peter tensed as he realized there were no windows. In fact, the rich wood of the wall was only interrupted by a set of tinted glass doors in front of him. Attempting to turn around, Peter gasped in pain as he was reminded of the wound on the back of his head.

“What the fuck happened to his head,” questioned a blond man angrily. 

Peter hadn’t noticed him until then. Turning his head to the left for a better look, Peter met the eyes of one of the most gorgeous men he’d ever seen. Towering over him by at least ten inches, stood who Peter realized was the same man he heard speaking in the car. The man White had called Soldier. Blue eyes looked on in concern, drifting from his face down his body and back up again. 

Peter tensed, feeling embarrassed by this man’s obvious pity. Defiantly, Peter raked his eyes up and down the blonde in return. Those blue eyes were complimented by a straight nose and a square jaw, framing a set of sinfully full lips. Peter begrudgingly acknowledged the mans physique. Strong, broad shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist and trim hips. Criminals have no right to be this attractive, Peter thought to himself.

Meeting the eyes of Soldier again, Peter now saw a flash of humor instead of concern. The boy would rather someone's laughter than their pity. The Soldier’s eyes drifted past him to land on Peter’s captor, eyes narrowed. 

“I asked you a question, White.”

Glancing gingerly behind him, Peter saw White shrug, unconcerned with the Soldier’s anger. 

“He slipped,” White said with a smirk. 

Soldier began to stride forward with a snarl when suddenly the doors in front of Peter opened. A slender blonde stood before him, impeccably dressed in a white dress. No doubt sensing the tension in the hall, she pointedly arched a delicate eyebrow at the three men before her eyes landed on Peter. Her face softened as she tilted her head, gazing at him curiously. 

“While I admit there is a slight resemblance...” she began.

“We’ll let Mr. Stark decide that, sweetheart,” White interrupted, striding forward. He grabbed Peter roughly by his left bicep and squeezed in warning. 

The woman’s eyes narrowed, and she opened her mouth to retort when a muffled voice from beyond the door called out, “Let them in, Pepper, for Christ’s sake.”

The woman, Pepper, pursed her lips but stepped aside to allow them into the room. Peter gaped at his surroundings. White was pulling him relentlessly into the room but Peter, even in his fear, couldn’t help but be impressed. It wasn’t an office, so much as it was a lab. He was particularly surprised by the bright blue holograms that were floating in several spots all over the room. The boys attention snapped back into focus as White gave a final jerk of his arm, causing Peter to stumble gracelessly. With his hands bound behind him, Peter fell face first on the pristine white marble floor. 

Attempting to push himself up, the teen froze at the appearance of black leather shoes standing in before him. He couldn't help but to freeze, remembering why he was in this room. To be delivered to Mr. Stark, who had been looking for him, was even offering a reward for him for some reason. Swallowing thickly, Peter gathered his courage and lifted his head slowly, eyes tracing up the jean glad legs to the grease smeared Zeppelin t-shirt. 

Peter inhaled sharply when whiskey brown eyes met his. He had been wrong. He had definitely met Mr. Stark before. 

“T-Tony?”


	2. Chapter 2

Tony Stark was used to having his way. He’d heard people call him a control freak and they had no idea how right they were. But how else do they expect a man to keep such a tight leash on a city as wild as New York? Yes, he was a control freak, because it yielded results.

But he’d fucked up. And as always, he fucked up when it counted the most. 

Standing half-dressed before his floor to ceiling mirror, Tony met his own eyes and allowed himself a moment to remember his sister. May. God, how had he failed so spectacularly? He promised her and he’d failed. He watched his lips contort into a grimace. She was supposed to have more time. That’s what Dr. Foster had said. She was supposed to have years. Tony would never have left his sister for so long if he’d thought any different. As it was, he had not counted on it taking three months to take down the Carlio family. 

Putting a bullet in Geo Carlio’s skull hadn’t been nearly as satisfying as strangling the life from Dr. Foster. He’d thought to send Thor, to make it just as person, but decided to do it himself. He’d been disappointed in the loss of course, but she had failed his family. And that was unforgivable. 

But there was no one to blame for Peter going missing. 

No one, except Tony.

His eyes caught on the light radiating from his chest. Every day it reminded him of his failures. He may have won against the Carlio empire, but he’d lost his sister and nephew, and what felt like the last of his heart while he was at it. 

Rubbing the scar tissue absently, he could already tell it was going to be a rough night. He had to find Peter. He had to keep his promise to May. It had been over six months since he’d put word out that he’d reward a hundred thousand dollars to whoever found his nephew and brought him to the Merchant of Death. Alive. Countless young boys had been paraded in front of him in the following months, but none were Peter. He was beginning to lose hope that he could redeem himself. 

Although, the last boy had been a close match. Not close enough to fool Tony of course, but close enough to tempt the darkest parts of him – and quite enthusiastic. It passed the time at least.

Tony blindly reached for the first shirt he could get his hands on, finished buttoning his jeans, and headed down to his office. It had been a long day and he was ready to lose himself in his work.

Pepper was waiting for him in his office when he stormed in, not even flinching as the door slammed behind him. Just once, Tony wished he could get a reaction out of her. 

“Widow called. Her and Clint have combed every inch of Queens and … Tony no one has seen or heard from him,” she intoned, her gaze never leaving the tablet in her lab.

“Did they interview his friends?” Tony asked instantly.

“The girl, Michelle I believe her name was, moved to California six months ago. The boy –” 

“Ned,” the man supplied. 

“Ned is just as concerned as you are. Hasn’t seen him since the day May die—” 

A crystal decanter sailed past Pepper’s head and exploded behind her. The crash brought Steve crashing through the door; gun drawn, Bucky not far behind him.

Pepper only rolled her eyes, exasperated. She turned cool blue eyes to Tony, “That’s enough.”

Tony inhaled, ready to remind everyone in the room that Tony, and only Tony, decided when enough was enough. But before he could, his secretary’s face softened and she stood, striding toward Tony slowly. 

Soft hands framed his face, thumbs smoothing gentle lines along the man’s cheekbones. The mobster exhaled loudly into the quiet room. 

“I think,” Pepper began gently, “it’s time…”

But Tony was already shaking his head, pulling away from those gentle hands. He didn’t deserve a gentle touch. The woman opened her mouth to try again when the someone’s phone went off, echoing through the room. Soldier grumbled quietly but accepted the incoming call.

“This had better be good, White,” Soldier growled, eyes flicking to Peppers for the briefest of moments. A moment of silence as the caller spoke.   
Then, “This will be the fourth boy you’ve brought the boss. What makes this one any different?”

Tony’s blood sang with anticipation, as it always did when Soldier got one of these calls. White had in fact brought only three boys to Tony. Of course, none of them were Peter but that didn’t stop Tony from enjoying the company. In place of the real thing, the best he could do was pretend, for a few blissful moments that the rosebud mouth suckling between his thighs belonged to Peter. 

As Steve hung up the phone, Pepper was quick to speak up. “We both know the odds of that poor kid being Pet – your nephew,” she corrected. “This needs to stop, Tony.”  
“We have work to do boss,” Soldier added in. 

Soldier had not approved of this fruitless for some time. Everyone in the family saw what it did to Tony, to lose his sister and his nephew. Didn’t the kid know Tony would come for him? How stupid could the kid be to just run off? 

“The families in Hell’s Kitchen are stirring up trouble in your absence.” Soldier squared his shoulders and faced the Boss. “We can keep looking for the kid,” he offered, “but we need you back downtown, before all hell breaks loose.”

Tony was surprised. Steve was his closest friend, his right-hand man. It made him second guess himself, which he loathed. But he had a point. His visits to the downtown location had become few and far between, as fixated as he was on finding Peter. Work couldn’t wait forever. This city would go up in flames faster than you could blink. 

Exhaling, the mobster straightened is shoulders and faced Steve, giving him a single nod. Relieved, his Soldier turned for the door. He was ready to go out front and turn White out on his ass, as he deserved. Tony’s next words stopped him.

“I want to see this one. Make it White’s last chance. If this kid is a fake like the others, at least I’ll have a good reason to paint these walls with blood.”   
Soldier opened his mouth to reply but the Boss had already turned around, his dismissal clear. 

Slamming down the prototype of a new semi-automatic, Tony gave up pretending he wasn’t incredibly impatient to find out if the latest kid was his Peter. He didn’t know how he would react if it was Peter. If it wasn’t, worse case scenario the boy wasn’t appealing, and Tony would send him on his way. Best case scenario, Tony could call him Peter while he choked on his cock. The thought sent blood rushing to his groin and the man gave his member a brief taste of the pressure he was craving.

Soldier was right, Tony decided. The odds of finding the kid, after all these months, was slim to none. He’d done everything he could think of in his effort to find his nephew. While he would by no means ever forgive himself, Tony was honest enough to admit that he had been neglecting the empire he had built. It was time to get back to work. And the sooner he could rule out White’s latest twink, the sooner he could get to it. 

Pepper’s phone pinged an alert and their eyes met briefly before she nodded and strode for the door. It was time, then. Finally.

“T-Tony?”

He was in shock. He couldn’t stop looking at him. Tony knows he should make some sort of reply to the kid but he just – he couldn’t find he words. Hungrily, he took him in. That mop of curls, those amber eyes, that mouth… Christ he needed to stop. 

The boy was obviously malnourished. The rags he was wearing hung off his slight frame, those beloved curls were matted to his head with dirt and god knew what – and blood?   
The genius raised a slow hand towards Peter, who jerked back. Tony raised both hands in a clear sign of surrender and backed away from the frightened boy, his heart shattering all the while.

Instead, Tony rounded on White and had a gun against his head in an instant. At last, it seemed, White was coming to understand his predicament. It was never good when Stark smiled like that. 

“That’s a good job you did finding my boy, Beck,” Tony taunted, gently caressing the gun against the man’s temple. “Only, I remember saying I wanted him alive.”

“I brought you your toy, Stark,” he spat. “He’s breathin’ ain’t he?”

White didn’t see the hit coming. One moment he was staring into the eyes of the Merchant of Death, the next a blinding pain split up from the side of his head. Cradling his eye gently, he sneered up at the other man. 

“If I hadn’t gotten rough with the brat, he’d have run of! You should be grateful all he got was a bump to the hea—.”

Beck White finished his sentence on a scream as the bullet tore through his knee. 

Tony casually crouched before Beck, still wearing that manic smile and forced the gun into the other man’s mouth.

“I’m going to be generous and allow you to leave here the way you came, and not rolled up in my least favorite Persian. But that blood cost you half the reward,” he finished coldly. 

Keeping his eyes on Beck, Mr. Stark called out, “Soldier, get Beck off my property. I don’t need his daddy crawling up my ass if he dies here.” 

Tony’s eyes stayed on Beck and his accomplice until Soldier dragged them out of sight. Taking a breath, he allowed himself to look at Peter. The boy’s wide eyes met his, full of fear and confusion. The mobster exhaled a frustrated breath. This was going to be hard to explain to his boy, but he would understand. Tony wouldn’t give him any other option, but he could be gentle.

Without looking away, Stark spoke softly, “Pepper, make sure fifty thousand dollars is in Beck’s account within the hour. Call his father and explain that busted knee. He found my boy and payment was given. There will be no favors called in over this. Lock the door behind you.”

Pepper took it all in stride, murmuring a polite goodnight to her boss and exiting the room quickly. 

The quiet was deafening. The only sound in the cavernous room were Tony’s steady footsteps as he made his way to stand in front of Peter. The boy was visibly trembling, and his eyes stayed aimed at the older man’s shoes. Tony frantically tried to think of something to say. Finally, he huffed out a quiet laugh.

“You always called these my old man shoes, Pete,” he teased, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. “Don’t tell me you like them all of a sudden.”

Amber eyes shot up to his, filling with tears. God, he was beautiful when he cried. The boy licked his lips before he croaked out a tremulous, “Tony.”

Crouching down so they were at eye level, Tony reached out to the boy again, who allowed it this time. He couldn’t believe he had his boy, his Peter, in his hands again. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to find you, Angel,” he said solemnly, his whiskey eyes serious in a way Peter had never seen them. “I will never fail you again.”

The boy exhaled a sob and tipped forward into his uncles embrace, the older mans arms wrapping around him instantly. Tony patiently held Peter through his body-wracking sobs, whispering comforting nonsense in his ear to soothe him. 

Inhaling a shuddering breath, Peter tightened his grip on his uncle’s shirt. His favorite shirt, his mind supplied. 

“You shot that man,” he whispered on an exhale.

“Yes.”

“It seemed... that wasn’t the first. Time that you, that you did that.”

Tony allowed himself a long exhale before he responded. “No, it wasn’t. The first time.”

Peter’s head was spinning. He just, he admitted it. What was going on? 

“Who are you?” the boy asked, beginning to tremble again.

Tony tilted the young boy’s chin up, until those tear-filled eyes met his. “I am your family. And in this family, we look after each other. I am the same uncle you spent every winter break with. But,” the man hesitated, “there are some things about our family you are clearly not aware of. Before we get into that, you need to get washed up and while you do that, I will get you something to eat.”

“And then. And then you’ll tell me. You’ll explain…?”

The older man nodded. Hooking an arm around his nephew’s too-narrow waist, Tony helped him to his feet. The boy’s hands gripped onto his forearms as he squeezed his eyes shut, swaying. 

“I’m so sorry uncle Tony, but I’m pretty sure I have a concussion.”

The next thing Tony knew Peter had become a deadweight in his arms. 

Frantically, Tony called out, “Jarvis! Get Dr. Banner here immediately. Tell him to come to my bedroom. Peter’s got a concussion. Alert Pepper as well.”

“Yes, sir. Dr. Banner is five minutes away.”

Slipping an arm under Peter’s knees, Tony held the small boy tight to his chest and began the climb to his bedroom.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s the low voices that start to slowly drag Peter from unconsciousness. The voices are male and for a moment the boy panics, remembering that awful man that had grabbed him in the alley. But then he recognizes one of the voices and the rest of the events following his kidnapping come back to him.

Tony. Tony had found him. He was at Tony’s – house? More like mansion, Peter thinks drily, going by what little he saw as he was ushered inside. But that thought brings him up short: Tony lives in a mansion and from time to time, it would seem that shooting people in the knee is a regular occurrence. Peter felt as though he never knew is uncle at all. He’d known he had money of course; Tony was one of the most brilliant men in the world. But not this kind of money. Not, not blood money. Him and May had certainly not lived in a mansion. Peter wasn’t even sure if there was a single mansion in all of Queens. 

The thought of May reminded Peter of something else: Stark. Where had that name come from? All his life, Peter just assumed he had the same last name as him and May. Tony used to say all the time that the three of them were the best of the Parkers. What made him change his name?

The bed by his hip suddenly dipped and Peter’s eyes fluttered open, coming to rest on Tony. He still looked exactly as Peter remembered him. Thick black hair with a smattering of gray at the temples perfectly complimented his olive skin and warm brown eyes. He had the kindest eyes, Peter thought. That was how he used to gauge if Tony was really mad at him, or just teasing. His eyes always gave him away, or rather that crinkle at the corner of his eyes, like he was always smiling about something. The beard was new, Peter realized. The boy had only ever seen his uncle clean shaven. It suited him, Peter thought to himself, almost as much as that gray in his hair. 

“God, I missed that face, Angel.”

Callused fingertips lightly cupped his cheek. Nuzzling into the warm palm, Peter let himself enjoy the touch. It had been so long since anyone touched him with anything resembling kindness. Brow furrowing, the bow sat up, Tony’s hand falling away.

“Did you?”

That seemed to baffle the man. “Did I what?”

“Miss me,” the teen clarified. “What took you so long?” God where was this coming from? The man had obviously been looking. But Peter couldn’t help himself. Suddenly, he was just, he was so angry. Hadn’t Tony gotten any of his messages? Hadn’t he seen any of the missed calls? Hadn’t he-. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Come back honey. Breathe for me. That’s it. Another one.”

Peter hadn’t realized he’d started crying. His uncle had placed a hand flat against his chest, as Peter hiccoughed another shuddering sob. God he was pathetic. What must Tony be thinking of him now? He had lost his only sister and hadn’t been there; Peter couldn’t imagine living with that. Shame washed over him, turning his cheeks pink. 

Tony couldn’t remember that last time he’d seen a prettier sight. The boy, laying in his bed, on his sheets, tears glistening in those amber eyes and catching on his full lashes, pink mouth opened in a sob. He felt himself harden at the thought of other things that could make the boy sob. His eyes caught on the IV protruding from the boy’s arm and that was enough to cool the heat pooling in his abdomen. 

“Of course I missed you,” Tony muttered fiercely, bracing a hand by the boy’s head learning forward, noses brushing. “Things happened, things that were out of my control,” the man sighed.

Opening his eyes, Peter felt his breath catch in his throat. Tony was so close. He could feel the heat of him, he could smell his expensive cologne. He found himself unable to look his uncle in the eye after his outburst and averted his eyes. 

“I’m s-sorry. I know, I know you would’ve. But, but I needed,” the boy paused and took a shuddering breath. “I needed someone. I needed you. And I was so alone,” he finally managed to choke out. 

Peter could see the older mans jaw clenching, hopefully it wasn't in anger. 

“God, you’ll never be alone again. I swear it,” he promised solemnly, eyes never wavering from Peter’s. “I can’t bring her – I can’t bring May back. I can’t change all that happened, but I swear, if you’ll let me, I’ll make you smile again. Please Peter. Can you ever forgive me?”

His throat was so tight, Peter didn’t think he could get the words out so he nodded instead, reaching up to hold on to the arm Tony had braced against his head. With his other hand, Peter dragged the older man on top of him into a hug.

Tony huffed out a laugh, still bracing his weight on his forearms to avoid crushing the boy. At Peter's insistent tugging, Tony finally gave in with a long-suffering sigh, laying down on the bed next to Peter, holding him as tight as the IV would let him. 

“How long was I out,” Peter whispered.

“Just a few hours. Doc checked you out, gave you a quick sponge bath, you lucky boy. My Brucie has got hands that could tempt a saint,” he teased. “He said that nasty cut on your head looked worse than it was. Fair warning though, I have to keep waking you up every couple of hours so don’t go getting mad at me." Seeing Peter give the IV a slight wiggle, he added, "That's just to hydrate you.”

Peter just hummed. It felt nice to be clean, even if it was only sponge bath clean. A small part of him hoped Tony hadn’t seen him naked. His skin was covered in cuts and he’d lost all the muscle he’d put on from dance. But Tony was his uncle, he reminded himself. It’s not like he’d judge him for it, right?

He was just drifting off when the bed shifted again, this time as Tony was getting up. Without thinking Peter grabbed his hand. Questioning eyes turned back on him. 

“Will you stay?” he asked, voice nothing more than a whisper. 

Tony was nodding before he could think better of it. What could go wrong, sleeping in a bed with the nephew you’ve fantasized about since he was fifteen? Tony smiled to himself.

“You’re going to love this.”

“Love what?”

“Jarvis? Hit the lights, would you?”

The room was plunged into darkness. The boy gasped, “What?!”

Chuckling, Tony turned on his side, facing Peter. “Oh kid, you’re gonna love it here.”

_“Please Daddy, please I can’t wait any longer. I need it now,” the angel beneath him begged._

_Tapping the most perfect, pink hole with the head of his cock, Tony tilted his head considering the boy beneath him. The loveliest flush was working its way down his neck and chest, tears gathering in his eyes. Leaning down, he ran his tongue along milk white skin, sucking harshly just under his jaw._

_“What do you want, Angel? This?” He pressed a gentle kiss to a tear stained cheek._

_“This?” Another, just behind the ear._

_“Tony,” his angel whined. “You know, you –”_

_Before the boy could finish, he had a hand wrapped around the slender throat. Not too tight. Not yet._

_“Tsk, tsk, tsk. What do you call me here, angel? Hm?”_

_The boy keened, head thrashing, but he stayed quiet._

_Cock poised at the boys puckered hole, Tony began to press forward, eliciting a choked gasp from the young man beneath him. Pulling back, he asked again._

_“What’s my name baby? Whose cock do you want?”_

_His angel was writhing now, hips lifting, his little cock searching for friction against the older man’s abs. But he held his hips back. The boy wouldn’t get what he wanted until Tony did._

_“Daddy, God daddy, fill me up,” Peter gasped. “ I want your cum, please daddy, please, please,” he chanted._

_Gritting his teeth, Tony couldn’t hold back any longer. Shifting his grip from Peter’s neck to the boy’s leaking cock, Tony lined himself up._

_“Good boy,” the older man panted. Then he let the boy gasp one last breath before he slammed home and he was cumming, so hard--. God damn, motherfuck--._

Tony jerked awake, lying on his stomach, cock still pulsing, with a growing puddle beneath. He groaned quietly and took a second to breathe. Finally, he gathered his strength to look at Peter, praying the boy hadn’t noticed his, ahem, reaction to what was unfortunately, only a dream. 

But the bed was empty, except for Tony. 

The older man exhaled a sigh of relief and gingerly turned over onto his back and froze once more. If only his room had been as empty as his bed. 

Lounging against the door, wearing a shit-eating grin, was Steve. 

Of course. 

The bastard even gave a little finger wave before explaining what the hell he was doing in Tony’s bedroom to begin with.

“It’s already eight and the Doc wanted to talk to you before he heads out. Something about the kid.” Opening the door to leave, Soldier threw a knowing look over his shoulder, “Or should I call him angel?”

The pillow Tony launched missed him by just a hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, I'm just as disappointed that the real smut isn't happening yet. BELIEVE me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the wait! Work is the worst thing ever and I was just too tired to even think this week. But here ya go!

Peter wakes up to Dr. Banner gently nudging him awake. Squinting his eyes open the young boy startles to see the doctor so close to him but he gets a kind smile in return.

“Sorry,” Bruce whispered, “but I need you to sit up for me if you can. I’m just going to check your reflexes and vitals; hopefully get this IV out of you.”

Relaxing, Peter nodded and sat up gingerly. He wasn’t overly sore, but he did have a bit of a headache. He told Dr. Banner as much. 

“Not unusual,” he conceded. “Are you experiencing any nausea or dizziness,” he asked, gentle fingers prodding at the bump on the back of his head.

“I feel fine, Mr. – I mean, Dr. Banner.”

“You can call me Bruce, Peter. We’ll be seeing plenty of each other around here,” the man offered kindly.

Peter ducked his head, feeling shy. “Thank you.” It was at this moment that his stomach decided to let off a low grumble. 

Bruce chuckled quietly. “Well I suppose that answers my next question. Let's go eat.”

“God, yes,” the boy nodded eagerly. “Please.”

Offering a hand to the boy, the doctor helped him to his feet. “You have excellent timing; Steve is making pancakes.”

The boy tried not to show his nervousness. Steve was very – well he was very large. If Peter needed to get away, he highly doubted that he could escape from the one Tony called ‘Soldier’. At the thought of his uncle, the boy squared off his shoulders. Tony wouldn’t let anything happen to him; he’d shot that man, Mr. White, just for hurting him.  
And the others called Tony, ‘Boss’. 

And Tony said he’d make him smile again. 

Nodding to Dr. Banner, Peter followed the man out of Tony’s room and down the stairs, into a large kitchen. Peter gaped at the scene before him: there, flipping pancakes, was Steve. 

And he was wearing pajama pants with puppies on them. 

And he was shirtless. Peter gulped.

On the left of the man sat a platter filled with pancakes and eggs and sausage. Peter’s mouth watered. When was the last time he’d had sausage? Glancing at the feast before him, the boy’s eye caught on a small dog bowl, with an equally small stack of pancakes fitting neatly inside. Eyebrows raised questioningly; Peter’s gaze met Steve’s. The older man just shrugged and gestured to the white table on the left of side of the room. “Have a seat, this is the last one.”

Making his way to the table, Peter came up short at the sight of a dog. Eyes widening in wonder, the young man kneeled on the cold tiled floor for a better look. He was the cutest tan and white boxer Peter had ever seen! Offering a hand to the animal, Peter held his breath. Following a tentative sniff, the dog licked his hand and stood to move closer. Peter ran his fingers through the soft fur and laughed quietly to himself. He had always wanted a dog. 

“His name’s Dodger,” Steve said, suddenly appearing over his shoulder with one of the dog sized pancakes. “Here, you can give it to him. He’ll love you forever,” the man said, waiting patiently until Peter reached up and took it. Peter had barely grasped the treat before Dodge had snuck up and snatched it. 

“Dodger!” Peter scolded, laughing. 

Steve and Bruce joined in the laughter, shaking their heads. “He’ll never leave you alone now. I’m afraid you’re cursed to have his head on your knee throughout every meal.”

Looking back at the dog, tail wagging in excitement, Peter shrugged. “I don’t mind, sir.”

Glancing up at the man, Peter was met with a smirk from the soldier. Tilting his head in question, he earned another laugh from the man. Raising his hands in surrender, Steve walked backwards towards the doorway.

“I’ll wake the boss. Pepper was in quite a mood this morning and I don’t think she’ll appreciate him having a lie-in.”

Peter stood up and walked around the table, picking the seat closest to the window. Outside the world was covered in a glittering blanket of snow. He'd always loved days like this when the world was a bit quieter. He used to love getting to stay home with May, curled up on the couch watching their favorite movies or reading a book. No one had ever called May Parker a good cook, but she made a mean mug of hot chocolate. Smiling sadly, Peter lowered his eyes to the table. He wondered if Tony would do that with him today. He wondered what Tony meant to do with him. 

Before he could get lost in his thoughts, there Tony was, striding into the kitchen and simultaneously smacking Steve upside the head. Steve laughed and picked up the platter of food, setting it in the middle of the table. Peter looked up as Bruce set plates and utensils in front of him, smiling in thanks but Tony picked it right back up, loaded it with a truly obscene amount of food, before placing it in front of him once more. 

“Eat up kid, you’re going to have a busy day.”

Peter froze. A busy day? Doing what? He certainly hoped Tony didn’t expect him to go around kidnapping children, I mean who knows --. A loud guffaw interrupted his thoughts. Glancing up at his uncle’s laughing eyes and gulped.

“Um, did I,” Peter started. “Did you hear--?” 

“Yeah kid, you said that out loud. And don’t worry, you’re the only kid I was interested in kidnapping,” he finished with a wink. 

Peter winced, glancing at Steve in apology. But the man just smiled good-naturedly. “So, um, what will I be busy with today?”

Swallowing his bite, Tony reached for his mug of coffee, eyes meeting Peter’s over the rim. “The Soldier here is taking you shopping for some new clothes. I mean, as good as you look in mine, Pepper would kill me I didn’t fit you out like a proper member of the family,” he said with a smirk.

For the first time, Peter glanced down at himself, considering his clothes. An oversized gray long-sleeved tee fell off one shoulder, almost reaching his knees. Lifting the hem, he was relieved to be wearing boxers. “What did you do with my –"

“Burned them,” the table said in unison.

Pursing his lips, Peter looked at his uncle across from him. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Nope,” his uncle said cheerfully. “I’ll lend you some clothes for the shopping trip, though.”

“Very generous of you Mr. Stark,” Peter said mockingly. Hesitating, the boy opened his mouth and closed it again. “You aren’t coming?”

Smiling softly, Tony reached a hand across the table, grasping his nephews. “I have meetings most of the day, but you have nothing to worry about. Steve is my best guy. He’ll keep you safe,” he finished firmly. 

Steve offered him a reassuring smile, and stood up from the table, heading to the sink to deposit his dishes. 

“I’m going to grab a shower and get dressed, and you do the same. Meet me here in say,” he glanced at the clock above the stove, “forty-five minutes?”

“Yes, sir,” the boy agreed, nodding his head. 

Peter watched the man leave under his lashes. He seemed nice enough. And he god, he was so handsome, Peter thought, blushing. 

“Come on, kid,” Tony beckoned, eyes narrowed a bit, “you can use my shower. Pepper will have your room set up when you get back.”

The man was already walking out of the kitchen by the time his words registered, and Peter found himself jogging to catch up, tossing a goodbye to Bruce on his way. It had only been one night; he wasn’t sure he knew his way back to Tony’s room just yet. 

The man was no where to be found, when Peter finally caught up. To his left, Peter could hear running water and followed to sound into the most beautiful room he’d ever been in. The whole room was white marble and, in the center, stood a clawfoot tub, steam filling the room as the water rose. 

Turning to the right Peter gasped quietly. Tony stood, undressing slowly, eyes never leaving the boys face. Off came his shirt, landing on the floor with a soft sound. Thumbs hooking into the waistband of his pants, a devilish grin lit up the man’s eyes. “Well? Steve hasn’t got all day kid, get in,” he said, nodding to the tub. 

Blushing, Peter lowered his eyes. “And you’ll be,” the boy swallowed. “With me?”

A dark heat filled the older man’s eyes as he strode to the boy, large hands coming to rest on Peter’s hips. Tony searched the young man’s face, for what Peter didn’t know, sighing softly. “The bath is for you,” the older man said, turning Peter to face the tub. “Just you.”

Those large hands left Peter feeling cold as he pulled away. But in the next moment, Peter heard a shower turn on. Glancing behind, he caught a glance of Tony stepping inside the glass shower, and quickly turned back to his tub to afford the man some privacy. Of course, the boy thought to himself, why on earth had he assumed Tony would be joining him? 

Undressing, Peter smiled to himself, wryly. He could surely be excused for such a small mistake. The man had been undressing as a bath filled. What other conclusion could Peter come to?

“You have to get in the water to get clean, Peter,” Tony shouted. 

“My apologies, Mr. Stark,” Peter called teasingly, “those muscles must have distracted me.”

Sinking gratefully into the steaming water, Peter let out a wanton groan. The warm water felt so good against his aching muscles. He hadn’t realized how sore he was until now. Allowing himself to sink a little lower, he realized the shower had stopped. Glancing up, the boy finally noticed his uncle leaning against the shower door with a soft smile on his face. 

The man stalked forward, and Peter willed himself not to notice the towel riding low his hips. Peter scolded himself; something was seriously wrong with him. This was his uncle for God’s sake! The next thing he knew Tony was perched on the side of the tub, one hand holding the towel closed and the other reaching for Peter. A rough palm settled on his cheek and the boy closed his eyes, so grateful for how safe he felt in the man’s presence. 

“Feel good, kid?”

“Yes, Uncle Tony,” Peter whispered softly.

“Good,” Tony rasped. “That’s real good.”

Tony slid his hand down the boy’s neck, thumb stroking lightly against the tendons. Peter shuddered. He needed to take his hand of the boy. But, God, he was perfect like this; sweat beading against his temples, curls framing his face, his skin slick. He had to resist touching that pink mouth or pushing his fingers inside and telling the boy to suck.  
Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to let go and stand up. Wandering over to a cabinet he gathered a couple of towels and set them on the counter. 

“Towels are here when you are done. Don’t spend too much time in there, Steve’s ex-army and he doesn’t tolerate tardiness,” he laughed, shaking a finger at the boy. “I’ll leave some clothes on the bed.”

With that the man left the room, shutting the door and leaning his back against it. He scrubbed a hand down his face as he struggled to ignore his hardening cock. Unfortunately, at the moment, he didn’t have the time nor the privacy to take care of it the way he’d prefer. 

_You could tell him…_ the voice in his head whispered. _If you told him, you could have him, taste him, fuck him. And maybe he would want you to…_

Tony clenched his teeth. He was a selfish bastard, but he couldn’t do that to Peter. He couldn’t.


	5. Chapter 5

Once he was dried off, Peter made his way into the bedroom, finding it empty except for the clothes on the bed where Tony had laid them out. A simple long-sleeved black t-shirt, jeans and black converse made up the outfit. Dressing quickly, the boy hurried back to the kitchen and found Steve waiting with a black coat hanging over his arm, which he silently held out to Peter to put on. 

“We better get going. Another storm is blowing in and Tony won’t like it if I get you caught in it,” Steve explained, making his way down another hall and towards the front door. 

Peter followed quickly, nodding his head silently. “Thank you, Mr. Steve.”

The older man cracked a smile at that. “Just ‘Steve’, kid.”

“Or should I call you ‘Soldier’?” the boy teased.

At that the man stopped and turned, his solemn gaze meeting Peter’s directly. “No. ‘Soldier’ is the name Boss uses. In our line of work –” he stopped. “Steve. My name is Steve. Don’t worry about the rest kid.”

Feeling suitably chastened, Peter kept quiet while they got into a black SUV with tinted windows and stayed quiet for the remainder of the trip. He was yet again reminded that Tony wasn’t who he had thought he was. And what was up with the, what, code names? Why did it matter what Peter called the man, he thought sullenly? 

Thinking of the blonde, Peter risked a glance at Steve, surprised to find sky blue eyes looking back at him. Irritated with his own shyness, Peter arched his eyebrow defiantly. The soldier just huffed out a laugh and turned back to look out the window. 

Well, Peter figured, since he had already been caught looking, he might as well make it a good one. Scanning the man’s profile, Peter was struck once again by Steve’s beauty. His skin was so smooth and his lips so full. It had been a while since Peter had had the time, or even the inclination to think of such things. He tried not to be too hard on himself about it. It was hard to find the energy for arousal when all your waking hours were spent looking for food and shelter. 

Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, he returned to gazing at the male specimen of perfection sitting before him. Steve was dressed in all black and boy did it suit him. A black peacoat covered a thin turtleneck and grazed mid-thigh over tight black jeans and heavy black boots. It _really _suited him, Peter thought. But he couldn’t help but imagine how he’d look in a shade of blue that matched his eyes.__

__Peter was jerked out of his thoughts as his door was opened by the man himself. He hadn’t even realized the car had stopped._ _

__“Did you get a good look kid?” Steve asked, a wicked smirk curling his lips._ _

__The boy was embarrassed and could feel the flush on his cheekbones, but still fought to hide it. “Well, a decent one at least,” the boy said with a shrug, feigning nonchalance._ _

__Steve just nodded casually, placing a large hand on Peter’s back and steering him up the steps of a nondescript brownstone._ _

__“Uh, this is a store? I thought we were going shopping.” Which he had been quietly dreading. It was bad enough that he had nothing, no money and no possessions; but it was even worse that Tony had to buy them for him. The boy had no idea what, exactly, Tony expected him to pick out. Just a few things, basic clothes? Or more? Feeling his heart rate start to pick up, he took a deep breath and tried to focus._ _

__“Well,” Steve started, reaching around Peter and ringing the bell. “It is, and it isn’t. Maria is going to take your measurements and then she’ll help you pick out what sort of things you like so that she can have them made for you. But she always has a few things on hand that we can get for you while you wait for the rest.”_ _

__Oh good, Peter thought sarcastically, that didn’t sound stressful at all. Before he could pester the man with more questions, a young blonde answered the door and ushered them in to an office at the back of the house._ _

__The inside of the brownstone contradicted the outside. Whereas the face of the house was old-fashioned and classic, the inside was all modern with clean lines and shades of white and grey. Stepping into the office, they found it empty._ _

__Speaking to Peter the young woman directed, “Undress, keep the underwear on for now, and stand on the platform. Maria will be in shortly.”_ _

__“Wait,” Peter started, but the girl had already left and shut the door behind her. Glancing at Steve the man just sat down on the cream-colored couch and leaned back with a smug grin._ _

__“You heard the girl. Strip,” he said, folding his arms across his chest._ _

__“Um,” the boy swallowed. “And you’re just gonna…,” he trailed off, waving a hand inelegantly._ _

__“Sit right here and let myself have a good, long look? Yeah,” Steve smirked. “I am.”_ _

__Opening his mouth to protest, Steve sat forward and pulled Peter forward by his belt loop. God the man was huge; even sitting down his head came almost to Peter’s chest._ _

__Eyes twinkling mischievously, he leaned forward and whispered, “Fair is fair, Peter.” And with a light shove he released his hold on the boy. “Don’t be shy,” Steve cajoled, leaning back and stretching out one leg before him._ _

__Swallowing down his nervousness, Peter undressed in the presence of another person, for the second time today. He was just setting the coat over the arm of the couch when Steve spoke quietly into the room._ _

__“Tony know you’re gay, kid?”_ _

__The boy froze, taken off guard by the question. Would Tony be angry? Would he not want him anymore? Peter had never found the courage to tell May before – well, before everything had happened. God, he’d been so obvious checking out Steve; of course he would come to the right conclusion. Steve couldn’t tell Tony, he couldn’t –. Suddenly, warm hands were cradling his face. Over the sound of blood rushing through his head, Peter could hear Steve telling him to breathe._ _

__Struggling to focus, Peter fixated on Steve’s thumb drawing calming circles over his cheekbone. “Sorry,” he whispered, “I’m sorry I’m such a mess…”_ _

__“I’m sorry I upset you. Just teasing you anyway.”_ _

__Looking up, Peter reached a hand up and clutched a hand into Steve’s jacket. “Don’t tell him,” he plead quietly. “I don’t know…” he drifted off. He tried again, “He might not want to keep me.”_ _

__“Tony would be the last one to mind, kid, trust me,” the Soldier said wryly._ _

__Peter opened his mouth, but the older man cut him off, “But he won’t hear it from me if that’s what you want. I ain’t gonna out you before you’re ready. It’s your business.”_ _

__“Thank you,” Peter breathed._ _

__A new voice cut through the room, “Why are you still dressed?”_ _

__In walked a tall woman, with short brown hair, wearing a navy sheath dress and raising an eyebrow at Peter, clearly expecting an answer._ _

__“My fault, Maria, I got distracted,” Steve cut in with a leer at Peter._ _

__“Don’t let Stark hear you say that,” Maria replied dryly, “or he’ll have your head. Pepper called this morning requesting a complete wardrobe for this one.” She turned to Peter with a small smile. “Must be special.” Looking to Steve she said, “Out. This will go a lot faster if you aren’t here making the poor thing nervous.” Steve stood with a good-natured laugh and went into the hall, shutting the door behind him. “Go on,” she urged him._ _

__

__With that, Peter undressed quickly, eager to get the whole thing over with. Maria was professional, measuring the boy quickly, without comment. It seemed no time at all had passed before she told him to sit tight before she walked out of the room. Peter was starting to miss the Soldier’s company; he felt so out of his depth here. The young man wished Tony could have been here with him. Tony had always dressed impeccably; he’d know exactly what to pick out for Peter._ _

__He was just considering putting his clothes back on when Maria walked back in with a stack of clothes hanging over one arm and a pair of brown boots in the other.  
“I don’t have time to tailor anything to your exact measurements today, Peter, but these should be about your size,” she finished, handing him the bundle of clothing. “Oh, and I threw in some underwear that will actually fit as well,” she said with a wink. _ _

__Scanning his surroundings for a place to change, Maria laughed and jerked a thumb over her shoulder towards a cream velvet curtain. “Oh, you’re just precious. Get dressed and I’ll bring Steve in so we can go over what you like.”_ _

__Grateful for the reprieve, Peter scurried behind the curtain and allowed himself a moment to gather himself. Inspecting the stack of clothing he’d been handed, Peter was relieved. Nothing ostentatious, just simple clothes. Removing his, no Tony’s, underwear, he slipped into snug black briefs which he followed with a pair of black jeans that sat loosely around his hips. He mourned for the muscle he used to have; he would have filled out these jeans and gave Steve something to look at. Next was a cream cable-knit sweater and Peter marveled at how soft it was._ _

__Maria rapped a knuckle against the wall, “Everything fit, Peter?”_ _

__“Yes ma’am,” he responded, quickly pulling on the thick socks and brown leather boots and pulling the curtain aside to come face to face with Steve._ _

__Before Steve could say anything, Peter caught sight of Maria beckoning him forward and maneuvering him back onto the platform, adjusting the clothes minutely. Peter stood still, allowing her to pinch and tuck and straighten. Finally, she stepped back, pursing her lips and looked to Steve, raising an eyebrow. Glancing at Steve himself, Peter was a little disappointed to find the man’s face completely blank._ _

__“Fine,” was all he said._ _

__Peter couldn’t help feeling disappointed by the man’s lack of reaction. Stealing another look at himself in the mirror, Peter allowed himself a moment to appreciate the transformation. After months feeling every speck of dirt on his skin, there were no words to describe his quiet joy of being clean. Of wearing clothes that were clean. Clothes that fit. Feeling tears beginning to prick at the corner of his eyes, the boy cleared his throat and thanked Maria quietly, averting his eyes in an attempt to hide his tears. He missed the look that passed between the two adults, eyes softening in understanding._ _

__“You look very handsome, Peter,” Maria said softly, taking one hand and leading him over to the sofa. “Now’s the fun part where you get to pick out a new wardrobe.”  
With that she dropped a truly massive binder on Peter’s lap and sat gracefully beside him. Peter could feel his anxiety rising as he flipped through the pages. There were just, so many options. It had been so long since he got to make any choices for himself; a decision as simple as what he would like to wear. Seeming to sense his mounting stress, Steve came to his rescue, snatching the book off Peter’s lap and flopping onto the sofa beside him._ _

__“Formal or casual, kid? Do you like V-necks or round collars?”_ _

__“Um, somewhere in between, I guess? And,” Peter fumbled, “I like V-necks.”_ _

__Nodding his head, Steve went on that way for what felt like hours: Boots or sneakers? Dark colors or bright colors? And on and on and on. Peter wasn’t stupid; he realized Steve was making it easy for him, giving him only two options instead of hundreds. And he was unspeakably grateful. Maria asked him more questions, trying to gauge his tastes, find out what he liked._ _

__“Well Peter, that should do it. I’ll get to work getting your wardrobe together and I’ll send over a few more things you can wear in the meantime,” Maria said with a smile, patting Peter on the knee._ _

__“Th-thank you, Miss Maria,” he stammered, feeling shy yet again, but so grateful at the same time._ _

__Completely charmed, she offered the boy a kind smile and handed him the navy blue wool coat and walked him and Steve to the door. Finished saying their goodbyes, Peter and Steve were surprised by the fresh layer of snow that had fallen while they were inside, the sky already darkening_ _

__Pulling his new coat closer around him, Peter followed Steve to the car that was waiting on the curb and climbed in, shooting Steve a questioning glance. Steve had said Tony didn’t want them getting stuck in the storm. Would they be heading home? Peter pushed down the slight disappointment: he had really been hoping for a haircut. At Steve’s questioning look, he said as much._ _

__“Maybe if we’re lucky,” Steve began, surprising Peter by threading his fingers through the boy’s soft curls, “Nat could find it in her heart to give you that trim.”_ _

__Peter fought not to lean into the man’s touch. What was wrong with him? He barely knew Steve. Starved for touch, Peter thought to himself. That must be what it is. The reason he wanted to be so close to Tony and now Steve. Swallowing thickly, Peter nodded. He had no idea who Nat was, but it would seem he was going to find out shortly._ _

__Another moment passed with Steve’s large hand petting his hair before he seemed to remember himself and pull his hand away. Steve was just as surprised at himself. He’d spent months frustrated by the endless hunt for this kid, and the endless parade of twinks that came through the house, he reminded himself. But Peter, well, he wasn’t what Steve had been expecting at all._ _

__

__Tony was still gone by the time they returned, but Nat was waiting for them in the kitchen when they walked in. Steve smiled and strode over, lifting her hand to place a laughing kiss to the back of it._ _

__“Took you long enough, Romanov. You missed all the excitement,” Steve laughed, turning to Peter with a wink._ _

__Standing before him was one of the most stunning women Peter could ever remember seeing. But it wasn’t the gleaming red hair or the toned, full curves (he was gay, not blind), that struck him, however. It was the cat-like eyes, tipped up at the corners and framed by thick lashes, and flashing the most brilliant emerald green. Peter had never seen eyes like that. She held her body still, but not like Peter did, poised to run at the first sign of danger. No, she was poised to fight. He had no doubt that she won every one of them, too._ _

__“Don’t be rude Steven, introduce us,” Nat purred, her voice throaty and low. Did he detect a slight Russian accent?_ _

__“Peter, this is Natasha Romanov,” Steve said, motioning Peter forward with a casual wave of his hand. “Nat, this is Starks nephew.” The man had paused at the word ‘nephew’, drawing it out dubiously._ _

__Offering his hand to the small but terrifying woman, Peter flashed a nervous smile and tried to remember the manners May had worked so hard to instill in him. “Hello, Miss Natasha,” he said with in his quiet way, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”_ _

__That earned him and arched brow and the slightest hint of a grin at the corner of her full lips. Mouth pursing to hide the full-on grin threatening to reveal itself, Nat just hummed thoughtfully and gave the boy a searching look. When she spoke, she said, “You need a haircut.” With that she pulled out a kitchen chair and pushed him into it, ordering briskly, “Take off your sweater, honey, you don’t want to get hair all over it.”_ _

__

__A short time later, Nat was wiping his neck down with a damp cloth, dusting the hair off his shoulders. Moving in front of him, Nat ran a critical eye over him, delicate fingers pushing his hair back a bit. Tilting her head, she took one last look and gave a nod, gathering her supplies and handing him a small mirror. Peter couldn’t quite contain his surprise. He looked, he looked _good _. Natasha had been mindful of his natural curls, keeping it a bit shorter on the sides but longer on top so his hair fell in soft coils against his forehead, hitting at just the right spot above his eyebrow.___ _

____Smiling in delight, Peter gave a whoop and bounded to Natasha, surprising her with a soft hug and an even softer thank you. Gifting the boy a soft smile, one she didn’t share often, Natasha patted him on the back with a murmured ‘your welcome’._ _ _ _

____“Are you hungry, Petya,” she asked, handing him back his cream sweater._ _ _ _

____“No, thank you Miss ‘Tasha,” the boy answered, “I am kinda tired though. Would it be alright if I took a nap until dinner?”_ _ _ _

____“Sure, kid,” Steve jumped in, beckoning the boy out of the kitchen. “Pepper should have your room set up by now. Come take a look.”_ _ _ _

____Peter had forgotten he was to have his own room. Excitement and fear filled him at once. Entering the room Peter was speechless. A large, four posted bed filled the room, with sheer gold curtains surrounding it on three sides and a deep red comforter with matching gold thread and corresponding pillows completed it. Glancing around he laughed at the children’s chemistry set that sat on the desk under the window. Tony had gotten him his first chemistry set, identical to this one, when he was just a child. Exploring the room, his room, he discovered his very own bathroom, a brand-new laptop, and his personal favorite, an exceptional view of a lake from the window. Peter had been surprised on the drive home, to realize how far outside the city Tony lived; he’d always said how much he loved it._ _ _ _

____“This is,” Peter said breathlessly, “this is so much.” Turning to Steve with wide eyes, “I don’t know what to say.”_ _ _ _

____Steve had watched the boy gaze around him in wonder. A common response to Tony’s generosity, he knew. “You don’t have to say anything, kid. Take it easy for a bit; it’s been a long day. I’ll come get you when dinner’s ready.”_ _ _ _

____A small hand grasping the sleeve of his jacket stopped him on his way out. Turning, he looked down into Peter’s doe eyes and felt his breath catch in his chest, just for a moment._ _ _ _

____Lowering his eyes, Peter spoke softly, “Thank you, for today. Not just taking me, but you know, for helping pick things out, you know?” Meeting Steve’s eyes once more, “It was, you were really nice,” he trailed off in a murmur._ _ _ _

____Steve found himself wanting to take a nap himself, imagined holding the smaller boy close while he slept. Tony would kill him. The thought of the Boss getting a whiff of the Soldier’s interest made him frown and step out of the boys reach, his small hand falling limply to his side._ _ _ _

____“You’re welcome,” was all he said, walking out and shutting the door firmly behind him._ _ _ _

____Confused, but also feeling the day’s stress catching up to him, Peter kicked off his boots, setting them neatly beside the bed and climbed atop the mountain of pillows. It was so warm, and was he imagining things, or did this blanket smell just like Tony? He inclined his head and inhaled the scent deeply, feeling a low heat rise in his belly. He was too tired to deal with that right now, he thought to himself. In no time at all he felt his eyes drifting shut and allowed his body to relax into the cloud-like mattress._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____What felt like only seconds later, Peter began to stir, becoming aware of a weight across his torso. Blinking slowly, he could just make out the silhouette of an arm wrapped around his waist in the darkness of the room. He knew without looking that it was Tony. If he thought the bed had smelled of him before, it was only stronger now. He allowed himself to relax further into the mans hold, becoming aware of the pulsing hardness between his legs._ _ _ _

____And the surprising weight of his uncle’s cock, pressed snuggly against his ass._ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all who have left kudos, comments, and even bookmarked this fic! I can't tell you how nice it is to see comments on each chapter! :)


	6. Chapter 6

Tony was in a foul mood. Spending all day putting out fires really did that to a man. One of the families had been acting up – again. Tony shook his head in muted frustration. After all these years, keeping this city in line – but then, every few years there was bound to be a new attempt at throwing him over. But Tony didn’t get to the top by being weak, and he didn’t stay there by being stupid. 

And that’s what the trouble had been today: stupidity. If you were going to sell Tony Starks weapons, and then pocket the money to fund your warehouse meth lab, you better not be stupid enough to get caught. And Tony had caught them so easily. He knew every potential buyer in this entire city, and they all answered to him. 

In the end, it had taken less than two hours for Winter to finish the job. It was the cleanup and the subsequent meeting of the rest of the head families that took the rest of the day. 

But, for once, Tony had something better even than his lab to look forward to: Peter. His Soldier had kept him updated throughout the day. He was eager to see the boy all decked out. Steve had filled him in on Natasha’s impromptu gig as the kid’s barber and it seemed he had already won over his Widow. Not that Tony was surprised, he thought, smoothing a grin. Peter had such a delicate innocence about him, and it was intoxicating. 

If nothing else, Tony was happy to know he wasn’t the only one affected. 

The last update Steve had given him, the boy had taken himself for a nap. How precious, the thought of his boy all worn out from a day of shopping, curling up in Tony’s – and it _was _Tony’s, as everything and everyone in that house was – bed just waiting for his dear uncle to come home. The older man’s inability to be the one to take Peter shopping today had only added to his bad mood.__

__He was almost home when the car hit a patch of ice, and sent them into a curb, resulting in a flat tire. Tony didn’t have the patience for this today; he had something, some _one _, to get home to. Checking in with Happy and verifying he was alright, Tony stepped out of the car, pulling his coat tighter around him, as he surveyed the damage.___ _

____Nothing too serious, it seemed, as he toed the offending tire. Of course, Happy was responsible for fixing this, Tony reasoned – but he also knew that if he wanted to get home anytime soon, he’d better just roll up his sleeves and see to it himself. He was a mechanic after all._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____Two hours, one very offended Happy, and one minor snowball fight later, Tony felt giddy as Happy drove him up the drive, opening the car door himself and bounding inside. The warmth was a relief, his clothes especially damp from kneeling on the ground to change the tire and, ahem, an impromptu snow fight. Tony had already instructed Pepper that he was not to be disturbed tonight._ _ _ _

____The smell of food being prepared, and the sound of laughter drew Tony into the kitchen, pleasantly surprised to see that they had a full house tonight. The gang was all here, Tony thought with a smile. Thor and Banner were conversing quietly in the corner and Nat, Clint, and Winter (how did he _beat _him here?) were hovering over poor Steve as he chopped vegetables.___ _ _ _

______“Good God, Winter, I left an hour before you,” Tony joked incredulously. The man just smirked and stole a carrot while Steve wasn’t looking._ _ _ _ _ _

______A cheerful chorus of, “Boss!” filled the kitchen, making Tony’s shoulders separate themselves another inch from his ears. God, it had been a long day. Steve spared him a sympathetic look._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I like your boy, Stark,” Natasha mused aloud, head leaning against Clint’s shoulder as he snuck another carrot from Steve’s ever-dwindling pile. She was quite territorial over her Clint. To the surprise of no one, the Widow did not share well._ _ _ _ _ _

______Propping a shoulder against the doorway, Tony shoved his hands in his pockets, and offered her a cocked brow in response. “Imagine my relief, oh Widow mine,” he said wryly. “Where is the kid, anyway.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Narrowing her eyes, Nat smiled wickedly, “We put him to bed, Steve and I. He was quite exhausted once I’d had my way.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Looking to Steve, Tony was surprised to see the tips of his ears turning the slightest shade of red. Studying the man closely, he could detect nothing sinister. Still, something had made his Soldier blush and he gave the man a questioning look._ _ _ _ _ _

______Huffing an exasperated breath, Steve glared at Nat out of the corner of his eye before turning his attention back to Tony with a good-natured eye roll. “Nat gave the kid a haircut,” he explained. “Maria’s took longer than expected and the storm had started to pick up. Didn’t wanna get caught in it,” he shrugged, returning to prepping ingredients. Raising his eyes back up to Tony, he gave him a quick once over and couldn’t help pointing out with a slight smile, “Looks like you might have gotten caught in it though.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I’m don’t know what you mean,” Tony said haughtily, turning down the hall with a dramatic swish of his coat, Steve’s laughter following him to his bedroom._ _ _ _ _ _

______Only, Peter wasn’t in his bedroom. Peeling off his wet coat and kicking off his shoes, Tony confirmed the boy wasn’t in his bathroom, nor was he in the closet. The mobster started to get nervous; what if Peter had gotten spooked and ran off? What if he’d changed his mind about wanting to be here? Heart racing, he threw his door open and ran right into Steve, who caught him gently by the shoulders._ _ _ _ _ _

______“The kid’s in _his _room,” Soldier said, apparently reading Tony’s mind. “Pepper finished making up the room by the time we got back.”___ _ _ _ _ _

________Tony’s gaze went across the hall where Peter’s room was situated and asked softly, “Did he like it?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Steve smiled and gave a nod. “The chemistry set was a good idea; made him laugh. And he seemed to like the view of the lake, just like you thought he would.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Well of course he liked it, Tony thought smugly, he had excellent taste. And he considered himself an expert on all things Peter._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________For a moment, both men just stood there in the hall, both gazing at Peter’s door, lost in thought._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I should let him rest,” Tony muttered unconvincingly, making no effort to move._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Steve just huffed a quiet laugh. “You should,” he agreed. He won’t, Steve thought to himself, but Tony definitely should._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________They both continued to stand outside the boy’s door, lips slightly pursed, and heads tilted in consideration. Finally, Steve remembered the dinner he had in the oven and exhaled a sigh. “At least take a shower, Boss; you’ll give the kid nightmares just from smellin’ you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________By the time his comment had pierced through Tony’s, albeit inappropriate thoughts, Steve was already back in the kitchen, too far away to throw anything at him. Or shoot him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Considering his options, Tony made a compromise with himself. He would change out of his wet clothes before he climbed into Peter’s bed; he couldn’t bear to risk the boy waking without him. The shower could wait – hopefully he could have a repeat of this morning._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________His plan of action settled in his mind, Tony nodded to himself and returned to his own room, hastily undressing and picking out his favorite AC/DC tee and soft gray sleep pants._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Approaching Peter’s door, Tony briefly debated whether or not he should knock, but decided against it, seeing as how he didn’t want to wake the boy. But he did open the door slowly, allowing Peter to indicate if he were already awake. Hearing nothing, Tony quickly entered the room and shut the door behind him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________His eyes went straight to the wooden four poster bed dominating the room and there he was. His Peter, curled up in a protective ball, knees almost to his chest. Well, good to know he’s flexible, Tony’s mind supplied unhelpfully. Shaking his head to rid himself of the thought, the older man approached Peter’s side of the bed on quiet feet. He smiled as he took in the boy’s new look. Nat had done a good job on the hair, he admitted to himself. Tony was relieved she’d left it long enough for his curls to keep their shape._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Running a knuckle over one prominent cheekbone, the man held his breath as the boy mumbled something in his sleep. Overcome with the boy’s perfection, he pulled his hand away, Tony finally having lost his patience._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Moving as silently as he could, Tony rounded to the other side of the bed and carefully placed a knee up, using his arms to crawl over to the boy’s side. Once he was all stretched out, he dared to move closer, fitting himself loosely (plausible deniability) around the boy, folding one arm under his own head and draping the other across Peter’s waist. He held his breath again, waiting to see if all the movement had woken his boy from his nap, but he slept on, completely unbothered by the addition of Tony in his bed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Allowing himself his first deep, calming breath of the day, Tony slowly began to relax, tension leaving his body with ever inhale of Peter’s sweet scent. He was almost asleep when he felt the boy shiver slightly. Using the last of his energy, Tony reached blindly for the throw at the foot of the bed and dragged it over them, feeling the pull of sleep beckoning him as he once again wrapped his arm around the boy. And if he held Peter a little tighter this time, who would know?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Tony’s eyes snapped open as he felt Peter’s body go rigid. The room was almost completely dark; it couldn’t have been more than an hour, he reasoned. Steve surely would have come to announce that dinner was ready, and Tony knew he wouldn’t sleep through someone knocking on the door._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Returning his attention to the boy in his arms, Tony did his best to keep his breathing even, attempting to feign sleep as long as he could. He was not unaware of the pert little ass pressed snuggly against his groin. He had to bite back a groan just at the thought. The boy must be terrified, he thought a little sourly. He had a cock himself; surely the boy knew what it was to wake up hard. Tony was fully prepared to brush this off casually. Peter would understand._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Tony, with his hand lying flat against Peter’s stomach, was about to pull away when he felt something damp brush against the side of his pinky finger. Grinning wickedly to himself in the dark, Tony lightly traced the head of Peter’s cock with his pinky, delighting in the ragged breath the boy drew in. Oh, he was a bad man, to torture his boy this way, and he knew it. And yet._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He continued to graze the boy’s hardness, lightly enough to be excused as sleepy fumbling. After several moments of this, the boys body still a statue, those slim hips began to shift forward. Just a bit. Tony thought he must be imagining it, but there it was again. He could feel the boys bottom shifting forward minutely, and back just as slowly, as though he wasn’t even aware he was moving at all._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________For all his years of experience, the tentative brush of Peter’s ass against his dick made him see stars. Enough of this, Tony decided. Tightening his arm, Tony pulled the boy flush against him, and whispered, “I know you’re awake, Pete. S’okay.” He pressed his cock deliberately against the boy in emphasis. “Just a natural thing,” he said softly now, he lips brushing Peter’s ear with every syllable._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Peter froze again, his hand flying to Tony’s wrist, holding on tight. As if that would stop him, Tony thought._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“U-uncle Tony,” Peter whispered shakily, mortified._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Tony had to bite back a groan, forcing his hips to stay still, when all he wanted was to pull down those sinfully tight jeans and feel that soft skin against him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“It’s alright sweetheart,” Tony said again, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over the boy’s stomach. “We’re both men,” he laughed softly. “It happens.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The boy gave a stilted nod and Tony could see the flush rising on the back of his neck. Oh, this was just too precious. His boy was embarrassed. Tony knew that he should let up and allow the boy some space. He entertained the though for just a second before doubling down._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Flipping his grip, Tony grabbed the hand Peter had around his wrist and moved it to the boy’s erection, pressing it there firmly. “You know what to do, Pete, surely,” Tony laughed. “Go ahead,” he said, allowing himself to grind slowly against his nephew. “Clearly, you ain’t got nothing to be embarrassed about. Happens to the best of us.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________But the boy didn’t move, didn’t laugh, or moan. But he gave a quiet sniffle, and Tony froze. Reaching around the boy and turning his body to face him, Tony was devastated to find tears spilling out of the boy’s eyes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Pete,” Tony whispered, his hand coming up to cup the boys face. He had never felt more like a monster than he did in that moment. He had made his boy cry. Already he had broken his promise. And no wonder the boy was crying, he must think he’s being molested by a man he trusted. Opening his mouth to apologize he was interrupted by Peter._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I h-haven’t,” he stammered, eyes refusing to meet Tony’s. “I-I can’t. I don’t know h-how.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Thoroughly confused now, Tony ran a soothing hand through the boy’s hair. “You don’t know how to what, Pete?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Peter began to cry in earnest now, tears streaming down his cheeks, his face flushing with shame. Tony just rubbed his back and let him get it out, waiting patiently for Peter to collect himself. A few minutes passed before Peter inhaled a shaky breath. Glancing up at Tony under wet lashes, Peter licked his lips and dropped his gaze once more, his hand tangling in Tony’s shirt. “I haven’t ever,” he took a deep breath, lip trembling slightly, “touchedmyself,” he rushed out._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Tony lay in stunned silence, completely blindsided by this turn of events. On the one hand, at least Peter wasn’t upset with Tony. On the other, and the thought of it a hysterical laugh burst through Tony’s lips, Peter had never _masturbated _? Ever?___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________God, could his boy be any more perfect?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Glancing at the boy once more, Tony saw hurt flash across his eyes before his face went blank. The older man rushed to reassure the boy, “I’m not laughing at you, sweetheart. Just surprised, is all.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Peter’s body softened minutely. Tentatively, Tony pressed, “But why…?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________At this Peter himself gave a watery laugh. “I was too afraid that May would, like, _know _”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Both laughed together now, and their lower bodies brushed together, reminding them each what had started this all in the first place. Tony didn’t know what kind of man it made him that Peter’s tears didn’t soften him at all. If anything, his obvious mortification only made matters harder…so to speak. At the brush of their lower halves, Peter gave a choked gasped and sobered._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I’m so sorry, Uncle Tony,” he whimpered, “this is so embarrassing. And I can’t even…” The boy let his words trail off irritably._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Tony knew his next words were a gamble, but he had never been afraid of a little risk. “I can show you what to do, Pete,” he offered casually, his hand still brushing softly against the boy’s back._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________The silence seemed to stretch on forever and Tony was afraid he’d really gone and messed things up. Only, then, “Y-you would?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Tony’s cock twitched in anticipation before he replied, voice husky now, “Yeah, kid, I’ll show you how to cum.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________He didn’t know what deity was out there rooting for him, but Tony would be eternally grateful. Ideas were flying through his head faster than he could breath, and he was completely overwhelmed by the possibilities. Some rational part of his brain reminded him that he needed to tread carefully here. Peter was trusting him, with his body, and with his pleasure. And as much as Tony craved those things, Peter’s trust in him would always be the top priority._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Running a soothing hand down Peter’s spine, Tony asked, “You ever had any wet dreams, hm? Woke up right as it happened?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Thinking back to all the dreams he’d had of Tony’s hands, the boy gave a silent nod, too afraid to speak, lest Tony somehow know. But Tony just hummed in approval, thumb now pressing rhythmically into his hip, hand flexing, before returning to cradling his spine._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“And that felt good, right? Did you wake up to your hand on yourself, or did you wake up grinding into the mattress?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Both,” Peter whispered, feeling the blush spreading up from his chest. He felt hot all over._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Good, that’s good honey. What felt best against your cock?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“My. I liked. I liked,” he stammered, “moving against the. Bed. Felt good,” he whispered._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Yeah, felt good to press into something, huh,” Tony agreed, feeling his cock swell even more at the thought of Peter humping his bed in his sleep, imagined his whimpers._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“But, I couldn’t, not while you,” the boy swallowed. “It’s too embarrassing.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Here, Tony took a deep breath, steeling himself for the final push. “We could do it together,” he offered, aiming for nonchalance, “just helping each feel good, Pete. Nothing wrong with that.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“H-how could we do that,” the boy asked, brow furrowed, “together?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Tony’s body sang with triumph and anticipation. “I’m gonna show just what to do, Pete. You’ll feel so good, I promise. First thing,” and at this he made sure to meet the boy’s eyes, “we both need to undress. You okay with that?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Tony was shocked when the boy just nodded, sitting up to pull the sweater up and off himself, tossing it carelessly to the floor. Peter paused self-consciously, fingers hovering over the button of his jeans. “Aren’t you going to undress too?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Tony quickly shucked his shirt and turned onto his back to pull the sleep pants down and off. He hadn’t bothered to wear underwear and he was silently thanking his past self. That must have given Peter the last burst of courage himself since the next thing he knew, the boy was shimmying out of his jeans and toeing off his socks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Once they were both naked, Tony directed Peter under the covers, shoving what felt like a hundred pillows out of the way in the process. “Trust me, you do not want to feel that fabric against your dick,” Tony joked, hoping to ease the boy’s obvious nerves and it earned him a quiet laugh._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Shifting slowly onto his stomach, Tony kept his eyes on Peter’s as he gently pressed his hips down into the mattress, dragging his cock against the soft sheets. After the first couple of thrusts, Peter began to follow along, keeping a perfect rhythm with Tony._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Quiet groans and light panting filled the silence, the bed creaking faintly beneath them. The boy was exquisite, Tony thought, shamelessly watching the boy’s silhouette in the dark room. He would kill to be able to see his Peter’s face, though. As good as the gentle pressure felt against his cock, Tony knew he wouldn’t cum like this. For one thing, he knew he was going to be chafing pretty soon. Tuning in to Peter’s frustrated huff, Tony realized he must have come to the same conclusion._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“T-Tony, I feel,” he sighed shakily, hips still rutting against the bed, “I need. I need _more _, please, Tony.”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________An idea came to Tony, then. Not ideal, and not what he was craving from his boy exactly, but maybe it could work. All Tony really wanted was to feel Peter’s small hand grasping his cock, and to wrap his own around Peter’s. He wanted to stroke him until he was dripping, tease and taste him. But he didn’t think Peter was quite ready for that._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Instead he instructed, voice husky with arousal, “Turn onto your back for me sweetheart, and pull the sheet over you.” Peter did so with a whine, shifting restlessly beneath the sheets. Tony was reminded again of how stupid it was to do this when it was too dark to enjoy the show. Then again, he had a feeling that Peter might be appreciating the anonymity, all things considered._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Before the boy could ask for further direction, Tony threw the sheets off of his own body and positioned himself above Peter, forearms framing his head, just like last night. Tony could just make out Peter’s face and he waited silently until Peter gave a tentative nod._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________With that, Tony lowered his hips to Peter’s and rocked forward once, twice. “Oh,” Peter breathed, hands coming up to rest on Tony’s back. Tony just grunted in response and pushed forward again, a bit harder this time. Beneath him, Peter gasped and spread his thighs, trying to match Tony’s thrusts._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“S’good Pete? That feel good now? That better?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Peter was panting now, breath hitting Tony’s collarbone. Nodded jerkily against Tony’s chest, moaning quietly. Tony was surprised at the size of Peter’s cock thrusting alongside his own. He was by no means the same size as Tony, but he was thick. Tony’s mouth watered at the thought of it stretching his mouth. He didn’t often go down on the boy’s he took to bed, but he was dying to taste Peter._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________At that thought, his cock gave a small jerk, warm liquid bleeding through the sheet, making Peter gasp at the heat of it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“That, Tony. I want,” he gasped, body thrusting faster into Tony’s now. “I want that. That feels so good,” he slurred._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Yeah, sweetheart,” Tony crooned, “that wet feel good on your cock,” he asked and Peter nodded helplessly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Tony could feel his self-control slipping. This had to be Peter’s call. “Pete,” he said breathlessly, still thrusting up against the boy, that small body writing beneath him, driving him crazy. “Pete, that what you want? You want it wetter?”  
“Yes,” he gasped, “yes, yes, I need. No sheet. Please, Tony.” The boy gave a frustrated sob, hands holding onto Tony’s hips now, urging him closer, faster. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Tony decided in that moment, that self-control was overrated anyway._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Peter gave a cry of disappointment as Tony pushed up onto his knees, bringing a halt to his boy’s pleasure, if only briefly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Hold on honey,” Tony soothed, one hand braced on Peter’s chest and the other fumbling for the nightstand drawer, thanking his past self once again for insisting Pepper stock up for the boy. Fingers finally wrapping around the bottle of lube, Tony shifted his weight off Peter entirely and pull the sheet away, exposing Peter’s body at last._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Glancing up once more, Tony, asked solemnly, “Still okay, Pete? Do you wanna stop?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“N-no, Tony. I want to keep going,” he whispered, swallowing thickly. Tony was grateful; if they stopped now, he would die. He was sure of it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Pouring a generous amount of lube into his hand, Tony capped the bottle and tossed it aside, reaching out to finally get his hands around his boy’s perfect cock._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Only, Peter’s hand around his wrist stopped him. “I can. I mean, you don’t have to Tony, if that’s. I can do it,” he finally finished, releasing Tony’s wrist and holding his hand out. Slightly disappointed, but not at all about to stop, Tony tipped his hand and let some lube dribble into the boy’s waiting hand._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Get yourself nice and slick, honey,” Tony rumbled. While Peter shyly wrapped his small hand around his cock, Tony brazenly locked eyes with the boy, wrapping a calloused hand around himself and giving a good pull, twisting his thumb over the head. Peter’s mouth dropped open in a little ‘oh’, eyelids drooping as his breathing sped up. Tony couldn’t hold back a groan._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Alright, Pete, same as before, okay? You ready?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Peter nodded, his hand reaching for Tony, ready to pull him closer, but Tony resisted, catching the boys lubed hand in his own, interlocking their fingers._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I want words, Pete. Yes or no.” He punctuated each word with a shift of his hips, so close but not enough for Peter._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Yes,” he whined, “I’m ready Tony, please, yes.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Tony lowered his hips back down with a growl, thrusting hard against the boy, eliciting a choked gasp. Tony could barely hold back a gasp himself. It was so much more intense this time, feeling the satiny skin of Peter’s thighs against his hips, the velvet skin of his cock against his own. His hips slammed forward again, grinding shamelessly into the boy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________With the hand that was currently holding Peter’s, Tony brought it up to his head, commanding, “Pull my hair, Pete.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________The boy was nearly incoherent, gasping and moaning, tears running out of the corner of his eyes as he hips met Tony’s, as he chased his pleasure. But he must have heard him because the next thing Tony knew, Peter’s slim fingers were tangling in his hair, pulling and then pushing his face into the boy’s neck as Peter’s legs wrapped around his waist, urging him closer._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Tony knew Peter must be getting close. Fuck, Tony was close, for God’s sake, all they’d done was grind against each other. Face buried in Peter’s neck, Tony suddenly couldn’t hold back from tasting the boy another second. Reaching a hand up to those curls, Tony pulled the boy’s head back, exposing his throat and licked a broad stripe from collarbone to jaw, sucking at the delicate skin just being the ear._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________At that, Peter stiffened beneath him with a gasp, a wetness forming between their bodies, a sound that tipped Tony right over the edge with him, back arching as his cum shot up Peter’s body, splattering his chest and neck. Tony whimpered at the sight, completely destroyed by the image of Peter painted with his cum._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Peter was still trembling, hips still thrusting softly, his softening cock brushing against Tony’s, making him shudder at the overstimulation, but loving it anyway._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Shifting to the side, Tony pulled the blankets over them, and brushed a hand through Peter’s disheveled hair. “Are you okay Pete?” he asked haltingly, the reality of what just happened slowly seeping into his mind._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Peter was quiet for a moment but turned his head towards Tony and opened his mouth to respond._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________But was interrupted by a knock at the door. “Wake up,” Steve called through the door, “dinner’s ready and it’s the best I’ve ever made!” A faint cheer could be heard from the kitchen at that pronouncement._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Alright, alright,” Tony groused, “we’ll be right there. Give the kid a chance to wake up!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Steve’s laugh could be heard through the door. Turning to look at Peter, Tony was surprised to find the bed empty. Standing up and picking his clothes up from the floor, the older man made his way to Peter’s bathroom, and rapped his knuckles against the door._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I’m alright, Tony,” Peter called out. “I just, um. I just need a few minutes. I’ll meet you there. If that’s okay?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“ ‘Course Pete, whatever you want,” Tony said, forcing a laugh. “We’ll wait for you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Shit._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm such a hoe. Poor Peter has only been there one day!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you for all the kudos. This is the first story I've ever written and it's so nice to see that anyone is reading it lol!

At the sound of his bedroom door shutting, Peter finally allowed himself to crumble. Sinking to the floor, he pulled his knees into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. 

The events of the last 24 hours finally hit him. He felt like he was having a panic attack. Peter tried to remember what you were supposed to do during one, but he couldn’t think. Focusing on his breathing, he tried to get his thoughts straight, taking stock of everything. 

Inhale. Some man named White, no Beck, kidnapped him from an alley.

Exhale. Only to drop at the feet of his uncle. 

Inhale. Tony, who’d then shot Beck in the knee for hurting Peter. It was at this that the young boy remembered his head injury, reaching a hand back to prod at the still-sore bump. He started to feel dizzy. Right.

Exhale. Tony was…not what Peter thought he was. Or who he thought he was. That was a question Tony still hadn’t answered.

Inhale. Then, a man named Steve took him shopping and cut his hair. 

Exhale. Numbly he acknowledged the most recent turn of events. He’d…dry humped his uncle? A hysterical laugh burst through his lips, echoing off the tile walls. Oh, god. 

He promptly crawled the short distance to the toilet and threw up.

Steve was just about to have Nat go check on the kid when Jarvis spoke into the room, his emotionless voice at odds with the message he relayed. 

“Mr. Parker has become ill and I believe he requires immediate attention.”

At that Tony shot up from the table, almost out of the kitchen before the AI stopped him in his tracks. “Mr. Parker requested the Soldier.” The kitchen went quiet as Tony’s eyes cut to Steve, accusing. Jarvis continued, unaware of the tension quickly overwhelming the room. “Only the Soldier.” 

Steve was aware of every single pair of eyes in the room on his face, trying to gauge the man’s reaction. But Tony kept his eyes on Tony’s, each taking the measure of the other. Steve was afraid of what he would find should he go to Peter. He was well-aware of the Boss’ obsession with the boy. He was also aware of how rough Tony could be when he…played. 

A small part of him hoped, desperately, that Tony didn’t suspect Steve’s, ahem, attraction to the boy. Surely, Tony knew that Steve would never take what was his. Steve knew better by now. 

Boss or not, Steve had never been afraid to stand up to Tony if he believed something was wrong. He just hoped that nothing _was_ wrong.

It was Tony who broke the staring contest, and the silence, eyes fixating over Steve’s shoulder as he clenched his jaw, exhaling slowly. 

“Why are you keeping my boy waiting, Soldier? Go make sure he’s alright,” he said gruffly. 

Steve obeyed with a nod, giving Tony a pat on the shoulder as he passed, trying to communicate his understanding. And hopefully, his innocence. 

Letting himself into Peter’s room, Steve scanned the room, eyes going straight to the bed as he took in the comforter sagging to the floor, pillows scattered, and the sheets coming off the upper left corner. Eyes narrowed, Steve stalked toward the bed, an open bottle of lube telling him everything he needed to know. 

_Jesus Tony,_ Steve thought, _it’s been a day. One fucking day and you jump him._

Steve could feel the anger rushing through his veins, the urge to yell or hit something, primarily Tony. Peter was a sweet kid. Innocent. _Not anymore_ , that voice in his head reminded him. 

The man was ready to go have words with the Boss when he reminded himself that Peter needed help. 

“Pete,” he called out, “where are you kid?”

A muffled sob came from the bathroom. Gritting his teeth Steve walked in, not bother to knock. He let out a relieved sigh when, after scanning the room, and Peter, there was no blood. That was something at least. But not entirely better than the reality of it. 

Curled up in the empty tub, lay Peter, arms wrapped protectively around himself as he stared blankly at the faucet. 

“Oh, kid,” Steve sighed, walking forward and sitting on the cold floor, back to Peter, leaning against the tub. 

At this, Peter just cried harder, tucking his head in his arms. Glancing behind him, Steve checked the boy over again, just to make sure he hadn’t missed any injuries. From what he could tell he looked alright. 

“You gotta talk to me, Peter. What’s going on?” Except for a few shuddering breaths, Peter remained quiet. “I can’t help if I don’t know what wrong,” he tried again. Still silence.

Blowing out a breath, the older man decided to just rip off the band-aid. 

“Tony touch you, kid? You not want it? Is that what happened?”

“I,” Peter started, breathing in slowly. “Of course not. Why would you ask that?”

Steve raked his eyes over the kid again, this time snagging on a small mark under the boy’s jaw. Laughing a little, pointed it out, “Is there someone else in this house that’s been sucking on your neck, Pete?” 

Hand flying up to cover the mark, Peter’s wide eyes flew to Steve’s, his guilt running off him in waves. Steve interrupted him before the boy could try denying it again. 

“Did you not like the way Tony touched you, Peter? You didn’t want it? That what happened? ‘Cause if it is, you tell me now,” he demanded softly, “and I’ll make sure Tony doesn’t put a finger on you again. You understand?”

“No,” Peter burst out, leaning toward the Soldier and gripping his shirt sleeve urgently. “It wasn’t like that all. I-I wanted him to.” At this he looked down, brow furrowed, “I mean, in the moment it felt, um. It,” he took a deep breath, fighting a blush, “like, it was okay?”

Steve just stared at him for a moment, considering, trying to decide if he believed the boy. Surely, the kid wouldn’t cover it up if Tony had forced him?

“Then what are you doin’ up here? And why did Jarvis say you asked for me?”

“I didn’t!” Eyes flashing up to Steve’s the older man just arched a brow, waiting patiently for Peter to continue. Feeling bashful now, Peter lowered his eyes, “I mean, I did. But, only sorta. Um, the compu-, I mean Jarvis, he asked me if I was alright, you know, ‘cause I threw up.”

Steve nodded, hiding his concern hearing the boy threw up so as not to interrupt the boy.

“Then, he said, Jarvis I mean, he asked if I wanted him to get Tony. And just, I couldn’t, I can’t. Not right now, at least. It’s too.” Blowing out a frustrated breath, the boy groaned in frustration. “I wanted it, you know, while it was happening, but once it was over, I just thought. God, he’s my uncle. And I. He. We touched. Each other. And I’ve wanted to for _so long_ and then-.” The rambling stopped suddenly, as Peter realized what he’d just said. 

Steve just waited for the boy to get his thoughts back together. He was a patient man. 

“It’s wrong,” the boy finally whispered. “It’s not right that I want him that way. You’re not supposed to…not with family. And he’s all I’ve got, and I don’t know what came over me.” 

Steve felt for the kid, he really did. Peter had no way of knowing the truth, and Steve didn’t have the right to tell him, no matter how much he wanted to. 

“Did he…did he seem angry? Downstairs, I mean,” Peter whispered. “Like, does he want me to leave?”

“I think the only person he’s mad at is himself,” Steve said with a scoff. “And serves him right, too. Here you are, less than twenty-four hours off the street, in this new place with all these people you don’t know. And what’s the boss do? Take the poor kid to bed,” Steve finished, shaking his head in exasperation. 

Put like that, Peter couldn’t help the giggle that burst out, covering his mouth to keep it in. 

“Listen, kid, what you and Tony do together,” he started, struggling to keep his anger at Tony out of his voice, “is your business. Unless it ain’t what you want. Then it’s my business. The rest you and the Boss need to work out together. Got it?”

At Peter’s nod, Steve felt beyond ready to change the subject. “Good. Now what’s this about throwing up? Your head bothering you?”

Starting to shake his head, Peter stopped, glancing down sheepishly. “Just a little. Just forgot to mention it, I guess,” he finished softly. 

Steve hummed, figuring it probably wasn’t the head wound that made Peter sick, then. “So what made you sick then, if you liked what happened with the Boss and it ain’t your head?”

“I just. Everything just hit me, you know, Steve? It’s like how you said, too much, too fast. And, I don’t know, it got hard to breath and all of a sudden it hit me, and I got sick.”

“Makes sense,” the man allowed. “Sounds like how Winter used to get, way back when.”

Tilting his head in question, Steve remembered Peter hadn’t met Bucky yet. “Never mind, kid. I just meant; it sounds like a panic attack. You feel tired now?” Peter nodded. 

“Well that, I can help with,” Steve offered with a smile, reaching out a hand to ruffle Peter’s hair. “You gotta take it easy on yourself after an episode. So here’s what we’re gonna do,” he offered, waiting for Peter’s nod before he continued. “I’m gonna start you a bath and you just have a nice soak and relax. I’m going to go downstairs and let Tony know you’re okay before breaks your door down.”

At this Peter laughed wetly, easily picturing his uncle doing such a thing. 

“Then I’m going to bring you up some soup,” he held up a hand, cutting off Peter’s objections, “which you will eat. You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“Fine,” the boy grumbled. 

“Good. Now, get out of that tub so I can fill it up. Towels should be under the sink,” he directed. 

What on earth could be taking so long? Tony was seething at the thought of Steve up there with Peter. 

Alone.

And after they’d. Shit. 

Tony had really done it, now. He’d known it was a bad idea while he was doing it. Knew he should’ve waited. But he’d never passed up an opportunity.

Well, he certainly should’ve pass up _this_ one.  
And now, something was wrong with Peter, and he asked for _Steve_. He was about to storm the boys’ room, everyone in this house be damned, when Steve strode into the kitchen, heading for the fridge and pulling out various containers.

Banner spoke up first, “Is Peter alright? Did his head start bleeding? Has he been throwing up?”

“No blood. He threw up and said he had a slight headache, but I don’t think it’s from his concussion, Doc. I think it’s from the panic attack he just had,” he finished, gaze zeroing in on Tony. 

So, the boy had told him, then. _Good,_ Tony thought viciously, _then Steve knows he’d better tread lightly for once._

Steve held his gaze a moment longer, giving a small nod, before turning back to the fridge and taking out a container of soup. 

“He’s gonna be fine,” Steve continued, loading a bowl with soup and placing it in the microwave. “He just needs to take it easy, give himself time to adjust. It’s a lot to have changed all in one day.”

Tony knew that was meant for him. He hated it when Steve was right. But he’d known himself that it was too much, too soon. 

Natasha glanced between he two men, a smirk curling her mouth as she leaned over to Clint to whisper in his ear. Clint’s mouth dropped open as his eyes shot to Tony.

“Aw man, you fucked the kid already?!”

Tony’s turned a betrayed expression on Natasha, a chorus of groans filling the kitchen. 

“Well thanks a lot, Boss, you just lost me the pool,” Clint grumbled, already reaching for his wallet. 

“I did _not_ fuck Peter,” Tony spit out, beyond offended that they hadn’t even let him _in_ on this pool. 

“Really?” Clint gasped, his face lighting up. “I still have a chance?!”

“Just how many of you are in on this?” Steve demanded, coming to a halt in front of the kitchen table with his hands on his hips.

Everyone but Bruce raised a silent hand. 

“Nice,” Steve huffed. “Very nice.”

“Well, wait,” Tony interrupted, “what constitutes as fucking? Exactly?”

Another fifteen minutes later, and it was agreed that Tony definitely hadn’t fucked Peter yet, so the pool was still on. 

Setting the tray of soup on Peter’s desk, Steve set about stripping the sheets from the bed and pulling a new set from the closet. He had just finished making the bed and turning down the covers when Peter emerged from the bathroom, towel around his waist, and skin pink from the warm water. Peter let out a surprised squeak. 

Steve rushed to apologize first, turning around to give the boy some privacy. Something told him, after today, he needed it. 

“Sorry, kid, just wanted to clean make up the bed for you. Thought we’d watch a movie,” Soldier offered. 

“Thanks Steve, but, um. I think I need to change the sheets.”

Steve bit back a laugh at Peter’s obvious discomfort. “Way ahead of you, kid. All clean.”

Peter’s shoulders slumped in relief as he offered Steve a grateful smile. “Thank god. And you,” he laughed. 

“I brought you some pajamas too,” Steve offered, handing Peter a neatly folded t-shirt and a gray pair of sweats. “Maria wasn’t able to get someone out here with your clothes,” he apologized, “so mine’ll have to do.”

The boy thanked him and rushed to his closet to change, emerging quickly and climbing into bed. 

Steve had just placed the tray of soup across the boys’ lap when a knock sounded on the door. Looking to Steve warily, the man gave him a reassuring smile and went to open the door. Standing in the hall, all decked out in their pajamas, was Natasha, Clint, and Bucky, all shoving Steve aside to crowd onto the bed. Peter giggled in delight as Nat offered him a bag of sour gummy worms and outright laughed when Bucky tried to snag them, earning a smack from the small woman. 

“Heard it was movie night in here,” Clint said, snuggling next to Nat and reaching behind her for the gummy worms. 

“What are we watching?” Peter asked, looking at Steve.

“Anything you want, kid.”

Peter thought for a moment before his face broke into a smile. “Home Alone?”

Cheers filled the room and Steve laughed along with them, grabbing the remote and pulling Peter’s desk chair over and sitting down, propping his feet up on the bed. 

They were just about to press play when another knock sounded at the door. Glancing at Peter, the boy nodded, both realizing who it must be, shouting for the person to come in.

Tony stuck his head in the room, gasping in mock betrayal at the scene before him. “Leaving me out of movie night,” he drawled, “in my own house?”

Natasha and Clint booed, a gummy worm sailing across the room to hit Tony in the chest. 

Looking over to Peter, all snuggled in bed, Tony offered a sheepish smile. “Alright if your old uncle crashes the party, Pete?”

All eyes turned to Peter as he gave a small smile of his own. “Yeah, I guess there’s room for one more. As long as you don’t talk.”

Bucky choked on a laugh, everyone having a new-found respect for Peter’s daring. But Tony just laughed, ambling in with his hands in his pockets to squeeze in on the other side of Clint. 

“Now you know I have only ever insisted on talking through one mov – fuck.”

Peter leaned over to glare at the older man, who huffed in response.

“Oh come on, Pete,” he whined, “that iron to the face would have _absolutely killed him!”_

“I don’t care,” Peter stated ruthlessly. “Be quiet or leave.”

Tony gave a dramatic groan, “Fiiinnnne. Push play.”

A little while later, everyone else fast asleep, Natasha sat wide-eyed in the bed, eyes glued to the TV as a clothes iron fell from the laundry chute and hit the skinny man dead in the face.

“I’ve totally killed someone that way,” she murmured to herself.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I accidentally left off the last part of the chapter but I got it added in there. My bad!

When Peter blinked awake the next morning, the room was empty except for him and Tony, who was watching him silently from the other side of the bed. Peter held his breath, wracking his brain for something to say. But what did you say to someone, a family member, that made you cum the night before? He knew one thing, though; the time had come to talk. About everything.

Curling a little tighter into himself, Peter braced himself, offering a soft greeting, “Morning.”

Tony’s smile looked closer to a grimace, pulling himself up to sit against the headboard and running a nervous hand through his hair. “I think,” he began, exhaling shakily, “there are few things we need to talk about Pete.” 

It soothed Peter’s anxiety a bit to see his uncle was just as nervous as he was. He gave a shallow nod, determined to let Tony start. He just didn’t quite have the nerve. 

“Well, what do you want to talk about first, hm? You wanna know what it is I do here? Or you wanna talk about last night?”

“The first one,” Peter replied quickly, “please.”

Tony took a moment, struggling to find a way to explain to the kid without frightening him. Pursing his lips, he glanced at the boy from the corner of his eye, finding Peter looking right back. 

“You know what the mafia is, Pete?”

Biting his lip, Peter nodded again, eyes never straying from his uncle’s face. 

Swallowing, Tony pushed down the familiar feeling of shame and resolved to keep going. “In New York, there are five families, and they decide who the boss is.” Reaching for the glass of water on the nightstand, Tony continued his explanation with a forced casualness, “And, when I turned thirty, they made me the man in charge.”

The older man held his breath, giving that a chance to sink in, waiting for Peter to hear what he wasn’t saying. That he ruled this city with an iron fist. That just like in the movies, he was willing to shed as much blood as it took to win. That he was ruthless. That he was a murderer. 

But, as usual, Peter surprised him.

“So, you’re like, the Godfather?”

A surprised laugh burst through the older man’s lips as he took in Peter’s wide eyes. Of course. What would this conversation be without a pop culture reference? Tony was almost relieved when he caught the flash of genuine fear in Peter’s eyes. He reminded himself of his resolve to be honest. “Yes,” raising his hands in a helpless sort of gesture.

At this, Peter sat up, turning his body to face Tony head on, a distrustful look on his face, as if wanting to keep Tony in his line of vision. That brought a bad feeling to his stomach. He’d tried so hard for so long to keep Peter from ever looking at him that way. But he’d gone and wrecked it in two days. 

“That first day, you shot that man. Mr. White. Do you,” Peter hesitated, “do you kill people?”

“Yes,” Tony answered flatly, throwing the covers back and standing, pacing over to the window overlooking the lake. He tried not to cringe at the sharp intake of breath behind him. 

“But t-that’s wrong, Uncle Tony,” Peter insisted, scooting toward the edge of the bed on his knees, flaying Tony alive with those wide eyes. The kid probably didn’t even realize what it was doing to Tony right now, to hear these things he’s always known, coming from Peter. 

Desperate to pass Peter’s judgement, he tried defending himself, “They were bad men, Pete. No one is them; I can assure you. Getting rid of men like that, it’s a mercy to everyone.” 

“Is that all you do? You kill ‘bad men’,” Peter goaded, eyes flashing in anger. “You don’t have the right to decide who’s bad and who isn’t.”

“Oh yes I do,” Tony snarled, striding to Peter and grasping him by the arm, pulling him up to eye level. “I’m the Merchant of Death, Peter. You lived on the streets for months; you know just how many worthless souls are roaming the streets. Killing, raping, stealing, and any other number of crimes they commit against the people of this city. It’s my job to keep those streets safe from people like them,” he finished, breathing heavily. 

“How?”

“How what, kid?”

“How do you keep the streets safe? Obviously, you aren’t out patrolling them yourself all hours of the day,” Peter pressed. “So, what is it, exactly, that you do to protect people? Besides killing them, I mean.”

Tony paused, mind racing to come up with a lie but settled on the truth once more. “I make weapons, sell them to the other families, and their men patrol the streets,” Tony drawled, allowing a smirk to spread across his lips despite the war inside, knowing that Peter would never condone this. “Of course, I also sell to buys all over the world. Why limit oneself?”

Peter was speechless trying to process what he was hearing. Tony made weapons and sold them. He profited from killing people. He must be lying, he reasoned. The Tony he knew, the man that was so kind to him, that never forgot a birthday, that spent hours playing with him – Peter just couldn’t seem to connect the two in his mind. 

“Tony--,” he tried, interrupted by the man instead. 

“I don’t expect you to understand, kid that you are,” he uttered deprecatingly. “Now you know.” And he seemed to be finished, Peter was shocked to notice, the man shrugging and turning back to the window. 

Desperate for more answers, Peter prodded, “Why do they call you Stark?” 

“Because it’s my name,” Tony said matter-of-factly, still refusing to look at the boy. 

“Why isn’t it the same as May’s? As mine?” But Tony didn’t respond, and Peter began to wonder if he’d even heard him. Just as he was about to ask again, the man turned to face him, a teasing smile on his face, making Peter freeze. Something about the look in his eye made Peter’s breath hitch, made him think of last night. 

“I want to know how last night was for you, honey,” Tony whispered, gliding closer with every word until him and Peter were face to face, chest to chest. But Peter was speechless, at a loss for words at the abrupt change of subject. Why wouldn’t Tony tell him about his name?

Again, Tony pressed his advantage, slipping a hand around the boy’s narrow waist and trailing a finger along his spine. “It’s okay, Pete. It’s all okay. Whatever you like,” he murmured, eyes fixated on Peter’s mouth as he angled his head and leaned in. 

At the first brush of lips on his, Peter panicked, trying to push back but Tony held tight, heaving a long-suffering sigh. “We have to talk about it. So, let’s just get it out. Come on,” he urged, giving Peter a gentle shake, “spill it, kid.”

“You’re my uncle,” Peter blurted, “and we-.” The boy had to take breath, his nerve resolving as he saw the hint of a smile playing around Tony’s mouth. He thought this was funny. Well, not for long, Peter resolved. 

“You’re my uncle, my uncle that kills people for a living apparently, has a new last name, and we had sex last night.” Cocking an eyebrow as that wiped the smile from the man’s face, Peter continued, “And you’re trying to distract me, your nephew,” he reminded helpfully, “with sex, yet again, instead of answering my questions.”

Overcoming his brief shock at Peter’s nerve, Tony narrowed his eyes and snapped, “I’m not answering your question, kid, because it doesn’t matter. I’m your family. The only family you have left, so it doesn’t look like you’re gonna get to be choosy here.” He hardened his heart at Peter’s flinch, pushing on, “Furthermore, it’s thanks to what I do that you were found at all. I expect you to understand that and be grateful. You don’t have to like it.”

Tears were streaming down the boys face now, cheeks flushed in anger, but still he glared at Tony, unwilling to back down. Realizing he’d gone too far, Tony stepped back from the boy, rubbing a tired hand down his face. 

“Fuck, kid. I’m. I didn’t mean that, okay? I’m sorry.” But Peter just shook his head, refusing to meet his eyes. 

“Yes, you did,” he murmured, “but I’m glad you don’t expect me to like it. Because I don’t. I don’t like who you are at all, anymore.”

The words hit Tony like a bullet, his pain quickly morphing back into anger, into a need to hurt Peter as much as he’d hurt him. “Tough shit. You slept in a bed full of murderers last night, Peter. Everyone in this house, everyone in this _family_

does what they have to do, which includes getting their hands dirty. You might learn that sooner than you’d like.”

“I will not,” Peter gritted out, first clenching at his sides, “I will not kill for you.”

Tony just laughed. “We’ll see. In fact, I have business in the city for the next week. You’re coming. Maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll learn a bit about the family business.”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking,” Tony said nastily, making his way to the door. He turned, one foot out the door, “Oh, and Peter,” he drawled, waiting for the boy to look at him, “you have a lot to learn if you thought last night was sex.”

He left Peter that way, chuckling as he shut the door, the boy flushing in shame. He sat on his bed, seething, aching, trying to come up with a plan. He’d never seen Tony that way before. Tony had certainly never talked to him with anything but love. But then, Peter hadn’t been all that kind with his words either. Guilt began to fill him when he stopped himself, thinking again to Tony’s parting words. 

He turned the matter over in his head, trying to think up a solution to all this. But he couldn’t begin when he didn’t know all the facts. Maybe if he asked Steve. Surely, he’d be more forthcoming than Tony? With that thought in mind, Peter took a shower and put on yesterdays outfit, leaving his room to go on his search for Steve.

Finding Steve was easy; he seemed to gravitate to the kitchen the majority of the time. The man was already dressed, covered in black from head to toe, sipping a coffee as he scanned the paper. Peter smiled a little at the image; of course Steve still read a physical paper. What an old man, the boy thought fondly. 

Steve spoke without looking up, “Morning, Peter. You feeling any better?”

“I guess,” he answered evasively, thinking of a way to get his questions answered without being too obvious. 

At that, the man looked up, brows furrowed in concern. “Tony said you guys talked. I take it, it didn’t go well.”

Huffing a sigh, Peter flopped down in the chair across from Steve. “No, it didn’t. He wasn’t. He was so different, Steve. I’ve never seen him like that before.”

“You have to remember something, Peter. Tony is responsible for a lot of people. And he can’t stop and feel sorry over every little thing. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t, mind you, just that he doesn’t have that luxury.”

“That doesn’t excuse being cruel. I just wanted the truth. Was that so bad?”

“Has it occurred to you that Tony is trying to protect you? Sometimes the truth ain’t all it’s cracked up to be,” he said with a small smile.

But Peter wasn’t having it. “You all know him as Tony Stark. Where did that name come from?”

“If Tony didn’t see fit to tell you, you can bet I won’t either.”

“Please, Steve,” Peter begged, turning big eyes on the man. 

Peter thought for a moment that he had him, but just like that, a wall came down, and Steve appeared just as angry as Tony had. 

“That’s enough,” the man growled. “I like you, kid, I really do. But you ain’t gonna convince me to go against the Boss. Not gonna happen. Tony will answer your questions, if and when he feels like it. You better get used to that.”

Peter flushed with anger, lashing out at the man, “Then you’re as big a liar as he is.” Pushing his chair back, Peter stood up to leave, but was stopped with a large hand gripped his arm, hard enough the boy was sure he would see a bruise later. 

“Watch it. We’re a lot of things in this family, but we aren’t liars. Ain’t nobody lied to you, Peter. You just don’t like the answers you’re getting. I have to say,” Steve said, shaking his head, “I’m real disappointed. You say these things to Tony? Was it Tony that was cruel, Peter? Or was it you?”

Peter felt the guilt again, flooding his body, bringing tears to his eyes. 

“I don’t know all he told you, though I have a feeling you know what we do now. Not one of us thought our lives would go this way, but we do our best. Tony especially. Look around you kid; anyone here act like they’re working for a lying murderer?”

Peter just shook his head mutely, refusing to speak. 

“There’s a reason for that Peter, just remember that,” the man finished softly.

After Steve had set him straight, Peter waited quietly in the front hall, as Steve had told him to, dreading the drive to the city. Steve had told him to not bother packing anything as Maria had a whole new wardrobe ready for him, waiting at Tony’s penthouse. 

Lost in his thoughts, Peter stood quickly as steps echoed in the hall, followed by Steve and Tony, the former motioning him to follow and the latter ignoring him completely. 

Peter didn’t think he could make it the whole way with Tony refusing to look at him. He had to apologize, he had to make Tony understand that he had just been afraid. But not of Tony. Never of Tony. Finally gathering his courage, Peter sped up to catch Tony before he got into the car and he’d have to say this in front of Steve. 

“Tony,” he said, voice small and cracking at the end. 

The man paused, motioning for Steve to get in the car before turning to Peter, face carefully blank. Peter caught his breath at the sight, realizing he must have hurt Tony more than he’d realized and feeling all the worse for it. 

“Uncle Tony, I’m so—”

A loud pop rang through the air and something wet splattered across Peter’s face. Wiping a hand over his eyes, Peter glanced down, shocked to realize it was blood. 

Looking up again, men were flooding outside from the house, Steve kneeling down where Tony was sprawled on the ground, a crimson puddle blooming on the ground beside him. 

Tony. 

There was yelling and someone was grabbing his arm, but all Peter could focus on was Tony’s blood on the ground.


	9. Chapter 9

“Again.”

Peter groaned, reaching a hand across his chest to rub at his left shoulder absently. Squinting in the midday sun, he looked to Clint, hoping the other man would jump in. Peter had been up here since dawn. But Clint just smirked, giving his head a shake, motioning with one hand for Peter to carry on. 

“Again, Peter,” Natasha repeated, standing a few feet behind him, ramrod straight, with her arms crossed and feet shoulder width apart. Peter was certain she must be some sort of ex-military, like Steve, the way she held herself. Plus, you know, how fond she was of weapons. 

“But ‘Tasha,” he whined, shoulders slumping in defeat, “I haven’t hit the target even once in the last week. Maybe I’m just no good at this.”

“You will hit the target, I don’t care where, five times before you are allowed to leave today,” she said simply, flicking her braid over her shoulder. 

Completely unwilling to argue any further with the terrifying woman, Peter returned to position, lifting the gun once more, took aim, and fired five more rounds. Natasha sighed quietly, lowering her sunglasses to better see the target – and the lack of any bullet holes. 

Turning to see her stalking forward Peter rushed to say, “I swear, I’m doing exactly what you told me to ‘Tasha.”

But Nat just shook her head, making the boy go silent, lowering his eyes to the ground as he scuffed his foot against a rock. It was no use. They’d been out here every morning for _days_ and Peter hadn’t been able to hit the target even once. Interrupting his internal pity party, Natasha placed a finger under his chin, gently lifting his face up so their eyes could meet and offered him a small smile. 

“Do not allow yourself to get discouraged, my Spider,” the nickname causing the boy to scoff, “it will not happen overnight.” At this she shot Peter a wicked grin, “Perhaps you would prefer Steve to teach you?”

Peter shot her a disbelieving look. They both knew very well that Steve was not happy with him, to say the least. Peter couldn’t be in the same room with him for more than a few seconds before the man started snarling at him. 

It wasn’t as thought Peter didn’t understand. He did. If he and Tony hadn’t fought, he never would have stopped Tony before he got into the car. And Tony wouldn’t have gotten shot. No, he would have been safe inside the car with bullet-proof glass.

And Peter would have been able to apologize in the car, damn the audience. 

And Tony wouldn’t be healing, alone, in some secret location Peter wasn’t allowed to know of. He took only the smallest of comforts in the fact that Clint didn’t get to know either. Natasha wasn’t supposed to either, but, as Clint had filled him in, she had a way of knowing everything. He tried not to take it personally that she wouldn’t tell him, no matter how hard he begged. 

And it all boils down to the fact that, because of Peter, Steve’s boss, his best friend, had been shot and, talking to Peter, let alone forgiving him, seemed to be at the very bottom of his to-do list. 

Swallowing down the anguish at the thought of his uncle, at the thought of Steve’s hatred, Peter just shook his head and turned back to the target. “Show me again, ‘Tasha?”

Dragging himself up the stairs, Peter allowed himself to feel a moment of pride; he’d managed to graze the target six times. Both he and Clint had insisted that it counted, with Natasha throwing her head back with a laugh and finally allowing him to go. He was gonna owe Clint for that. 

He’d gone straight for the kitchen, desperate for some water, and, grabbing a bottle out of the fridge rounded the corner straight into Steve. Running into Steve was like running into a brick wall, and he would’ve fallen over had the man not caught his elbows with a growl, physically lifting the boy out of the way before carrying on into the kitchen. 

Biting his lip, Peter took a moment to glance into the room, eyes on Steve’s back as he went and stood facing the sink, hands braced on the counter as he breathed deeply. The thing was, Peter didn’t blame Steve for his anger, not at all. It wasn’t like Peter didn’t blame himself for what had happened. He knew it was his fault. Feeling himself start to choke up, the boy turned away from Steve and beat a hasty retreat to his bedroom before the tears started to fall. 

Steve had already yelled at him for crying so much. After, when Bucky and Clint had dragged Tony inside to his lab, shouting for someone to get Dr. Banner. After Tony had grabbed Peter’s hand, slurring, “S’okay, Pete. Gonna be fine,” over and over before he’d passed out. After Natasha had gently led him outside to the hall, where he sobbed, even harder, he thought, than he had when he’d had to say goodbye to May. 

He’d been choking out garbled words, begging Natasha to let him go back in to see Tony, when Steve had appeared out of nowhere, snapping at Peter to stop. Stop crying, stop begging, stop talking; Peter wasn’t sure what, but he did. He stopped. Natasha had shot Steve a glare before urging Peter to stand up, wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders and leading him to her room, where he laid with his head on her lap, staring blankly at the door until he fell asleep. 

Things had continued to appear cold between them in the week that followed, and guilt ate at Peter until Natasha had woken him the next morning, a seething Steve forced before him, one arm wrenched behind his back as he forced an apology between clenched teeth. Things had been alright since then; between ‘Tasha and Steve anyway. 

Looking around, Peter took in all the fine things Tony had filled his room with, all the things he’d known Peter would love. And Peter had gone and practically thrown it in his face. And now, he couldn’t even apologize, could beg his uncle to forgive him, or even thank him for saving his life yet again. Because he had. Peter had eavesdropped on a conversation between Steve and Bucky, Bucky remarking how fortunate Peter was that Tony had stepped forward at just that moment, or else it would’ve been him that was shot. 

It was in that moment that Peter had resolved to get strong, to be strong, for Tony. He wanted to prove that he could be a help and not a hinderance to his uncle, that Tony wouldn’t have to worry about getting hurt or Peter getting hurt because Peter was going to learn, for the both of them. 

Convincing ‘Tasha had been easy. 

Convincing Steve on the other hand had just involved more yelling. He would be eternally grateful that Natasha had championed him through it all, scarcely letting the Soldier speak to Peter while they argued. Peter had been even more grateful when Clint _and_ Bucky had taken his and Natasha’s side, insisting that Tony would be glad that Peter was learning to defend himself. Steve had just thrown his hands up, reminding the group that they would be answering to Tony if anything happened to the boy, sending a menacing glare Peter’s way as he stalked out of the room. 

Well, nothing had happened to him so far, and he’d heard nothing from Tony. Anger flooded Peter again, impotent frustration making him clench his teeth, as the urge to see Tony swept through him again. He had waited so long, prayed and hoped so long, for Tony to find him, to save him. 

And Peter had got him shot. 

Peter didn’t stop asking though, gathered his courage every day to find Steve and ask for an update. Was Tony okay? Was he awake yet? Did he need anything? Did he say anything? And each time Steve would spit out a, ‘No news, kid,’ as if it physically pained him to interact with Peter at all. 

When Peter Parker made a mess of things, he really went all out, didn’t he?

Scoffing to himself, Peter stripped out of his clothes, the now-cold sweat sending a shiver down his spine. He turned on the shower and hopped in, taking a moment to appreciate the bite of hot water against his skin, before reaching for the body wash and lathering himself up. 

Mind on Tony, as it always seemed to be these days, Peter ran his hands absently over his chest, thumb nail scraping lightly against one nipple, his breath hitching. Curious at his own reaction, Peter did it again, this time giving the hardening nub a light pinch, groaning as he felt his dick start to swell. Trailing his free hand down his ribs, he thought of Tony above him, the feeling of his cock pressed alongside his own, his hands in Tony’s hair. 

Unsure exactly how to go about this, Peter experimented, trailing his fingertips lightly along the shaft, and his thoughts strayed back to the glorious _pressure_ of Tony pressed against him, remembering the way the older man had wrapped his hand tightly around his cock when adding lube, pulling up slowly, the way his thumb brushed slickly against the head. Inspired now, Peter wrapped delicate fingers around his cock, gripping tight around the base just like Tony had, and drew his hand up, breath catching in his chest as the pleasure shot up his spine. 

Thinking quickly, Peter reached for the conditioner and slicked up his cock, bracing one forearm on the shower wall as he took himself in hand again.

Steve forced himself to exhale slowly, knuckles turning white as he gripped the counter. Every day he woke up determined to be nicer to the kid, but as soon as he laid eyes on him, he felt the fear again. The body-numbing fear at seeing his friend shot, the fear of thinking Peter had been hit too, the fear of being absolutely powerless in that moment. 

He didn’t blame the kid, not really. Clearly, Peter had just been trying to apologize to the Boss, had wanted to make things right. And Steve admired that. He did. But, God the fear. He’d been so worried, when the blood had splattered across the boy’s face, that the bullet had hit him too. And once he’d figured out that it hadn’t touched him, just his best friend, the anger hit. What kind of friend was he that he was more worried for the kid than for Tony? 

And then he’d gone and snapped at the kid. But he reasoned that it was better to be strict with Peter now, to keep him safe. Security had been tightened all over the place, with men patrolling the grounds, him and Bucky included, just out of sight, always keeping an eye out. 

They still had no idea who’d done it. Whoever they were, they had been quick and clean, leaving nothing behind. At this point, they only had a good idea of where the shot came from, but that was about it. Maybe it was good thing the Boss wasn’t awake.

Well, up until now, anyway. 

Steve was torn from his thoughts as Happy walked in, eyes bloodshot and clothes rumpled from his night shift with Tony. The man had barely left Tony’s side, proving to be even more stubborn than Tony himself. The Boss had sent him home, requesting make short stop on the way, before sending Steve to take his place.

With a roll of his eyes, Happy held out a red gift bag, adorned with gold ribbons and said, “For the kid.”

“What is it?”

“A phone. Wants to talk to him. Said he was worried,” the man finished, heaving a long-suffering sight, but anyone could see just how relieved he was that Tony was awake. 

Giving a sigh of his own, Steve nodded, reaching for the bag, “I’ll give it to him. Gotta go and change anyway.”

With a nod, Steve strode to the boy’s room, and gave a quick knock. No answer. “Peter, it’s me, there’s news on Tony.”

Again, nothing. Frowning to himself, Steve started to feel a bit irritated. He knew the kid might be mad at him, confused maybe, but he badgered Steve for news every day. 

Deciding to hell with it, Steve let himself in, pausing as he heard the shower running. He could just take a seat and wait. But, if it was him, he’d want to know Tony was awake right away. 

Steve knocked on the door, surprised as the it swung open under his fist. Kid must not have closed the door all the way. Shrugging, the Soldier walked in and felt his whole body go still at the sight before him. 

He couldn’t see everything through the steam fogging up the shower door, but he could see enough. Could see the kid, back arched as he gripped himself, hand moving quickly over his cock as he whined, one hand pinching his nipple as the boy gasped. 

Swallowing thickly, Steve tried to make himself leave but his feet just wouldn’t move. 

Goddamn. No wonder Tony couldn’t wait. No wonder he had nearly torn the city apart looking for the kid. He was magnificent. 

The steam started clear as the water cooled, and how long had he been at it, Steve wondered, imagining what the boy must sound like when climaxes. By the sounds of it, he wouldn’t have to wait long to find out. 

_Or not,_ Steve thought, as Peter gave an entirely different kind of gasp amber eyes met his own. 

But his hand didn’t stop, Steve couldn’t help but notice, licking his lips unconsciously as he imagined running his tongue along the boy’s mouth, licking up every stray drop of water running down the slim body. 

Feeling his cock harden, Steve subtly shifted the gift bag in front his crotch, crossing the room to lean back against the counter, eyes never leaving the boy. 

“Keep going,” Steve said lowly, hoping Peter could hear him over the sound of the water.

In a haze of pleasure, Peter didn’t even consider stopping. At the sight of Steve, his shirt stretched tightly over muscled arms and his full lips, Peter whined desperately, jerking his cock even faster as he felt that pull, felt his balls tighten as Steve licked his lips again.

“Peter,” Steve rasped.

At the sound of his name, the pressure snapped, his cock pulsing, cum painting the glass door in front of him as he gasped, jerking himself through the aftershocks until it was too much.

Breathing heavily, Peter closed his eyes and let the water cool his heated skin, cursing himself a fool for doing this _again_. God, he’d already ruined his relationship with Tony, and now he’d undoubtedly made things worse between him and Steve. Allowing himself another deep breath, Peter risked a glance at the man, and was surprised to see him turned around, one large hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 

Turning off the water, Peter quickly reached for his towel and covered up, stilling as a horrible thought occurred to him. 

Spinning to Steve he demanded, “Is Tony alright? Has something happened?”

Risking a cautious glance over his shoulder, Steve said, “Yes. But something good.” Reassured that the boy was covered up, the older man turned to face Peter fully. “He woke up, Peter,” he exhaled, holding up a hand to stave off the kid’s next question, “and no, you still can’t see him,” he finished sternly. 

Peter was clenching his jaw, trying not cry with the relief that Tony was awake and with the disappointment that he still couldn’t go to him. Breathing deeply to stay calm, just like ‘Tasha had taught him, he nodded. “Thank God,” he whispered. “And thank you,” the boy paused, “for telling me, I mean.”

“He had Happy get you this,” Steve muttered, offering Peter the bag. Silence filled the room as Peter grasped the bag, eyes refusing to meet Steve’s. “I’ll be with him tonight,” he said gruffly, “I’m just about to head out.”

“Good. That’s good. Drive safe,” Peter whispered, eyes fixed on the bag in his hand, fingers twirling around the ribbons. 

Steve gave the boy a nod, absolutely certain that now was not the time to address what he had walked in on, what he had, in fact, encouraged, and left the room. 

Peter waited until he heard the door shut behind Steve before allowing himself to exhale. Eager to see what was in the bag, he rushed to pull on his pajamas and climbed onto his bed, tucking his feet beneath him as he tipped the bag’s contents onto the comforter. 

His eyes went wide in excitement as he grasped the box, turning it this way and that before ripping it open. He’d spent many hours begging May for a cell phone, but they had always been too poor to afford it. Especially one this nice. 

Guilt ate at him again, making him pause. He’d gotten Tony shot. And in return, Tony had gotten him another gift, a brand-new phone. 

He was the worst nephew in the history of mankind, he was sure of it. 

Gingerly lifting the sleek gadget out of its box, Peter plugged it in and waited the appropriate time before turning it on, flipping onto his stomach to eagerly explore every app.

It was the solitary number in his contacts that made him pause. ‘TS’. Tilting his head, Peter tried not to get his hopes up. Maybe it wasn’t Tony, he reasoned; maybe it was tech support? 

As he debated whether to try calling the number, the phone began to vibrate in his hand.

An incoming call from ‘TS’. 

Swallowing, Peter pressed a shaking finger to the screen, and dragged it up, waiting silently for the other person to speak first. 

A raspy voice filled his ear. “That you kid?”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well. What have we here? I just want to thank everyone who's left comments and kudos, it just makes my day! :)
> 
> ***updated to fix the error in the middle! thank you to Black_Wolf for letting me know about it!

“Uncle Tony,” Peter breathed, sinking back onto his pillows, the familiar voice allowing him to relax in a way that had been impossible in the last week. But Tony had always been that for Peter; something to look forward to, something that made anticipation dance up his spine just as it was now. 

“Hi honey,” Tony murmured, a smile evident in his tone. Peter felt a smile curling his own lips at the endearment, a glowing warmth filling him at the obvious affection. Feeling his throat tighten, he could choke on the gratitude he felt for this man who, after everything, even when laid up in what Peter hoped was a medical facility of some sort, spoke to Peter like he was the most important person in the world. In _his_ world. 

Reminding himself that he was not going to cry, Peter exhaled shakily, his free hand going to his chest, laying right over his heart, trying to calm the erratic beating. “God, Tony,” he whispered, incapable of raising his voice, afraid it would crack, afraid Tony would hear, “are you okay? Are you going to be okay?”

Tony just hummed, “M’fine, Pete,” he said just as softly, “needed to make sure _you_ were okay.” At this, the older man huffed out a breath, or tried to, but at the end it trailed into a wet cough, Peter’s eyes clenching shut at the sound, a whimper escaping him. 

But Tony just shushed him gently, “No one would say a damn word about you, kid. One bullet and they forget who the Boss is, ain’t that typical? Needed to know you were alright,” he repeated, voice sounding steadier now, fiercer, “remembered blood on your face but no one would say if it was yours.”

“It was yours,” Peter accused, tears running unchecked down his cheeks now, dripping coolly onto his neck. “It was you, you almost died, Tony, I saw you,” he paused, drawing in a calming breath, “I saw your blood, Tony, there was so _much_.”

Tony shushed him again through the phone, whispering soothing words through the phone, half of which Peter wasn’t even aware of, all his effort fixated on Tony’s voice, his favorite voice in the world. Unthinking, he said as much, interrupting the man. 

“This voice?” Tony asked, and he was certain the man was smiling now, playing it up, letting it go low and gravelly the way Peter had always liked best. Feeling his cheeks heat, Peter wracked his brain for a way to save this moment, to keep them in the warm bubble of soft whispers, not talking about that night and everything after it, just the endless relief that Tony was okay. But. 

Fuck it. If Peter had learned anything in the last week, hell in the last _hour_ , he reminded himself, determinedly not thinking of Steve, it was that he was apparently completely shameless. 

“Yes,” Peter admitted on a breathy exhale, figuring he had nothing to lose now anyway. He’d literally had an _orgasm_ with his _uncle_ ; the cat was pretty much out of the bag and he didn’t have the energy, nor the inclination to think too hard on it, especially now, faced with the simple privilege of hearing that beloved voice again. “Love that voice,” he said again, because he could.

“Pete, baby, you don’t have to-.”

“I love it, Tony,” Peter interrupted, a reckless haze seeming to come over him, the same way it had when they’d been in bed, Tony behind him then above him, his callused hand on the back of his thigh. Nothing had ever been more perfect. “I loved hearing you, that night,” he rushed, encouraged by the sound of his uncle’s quick breaths on the other line, “loved hearing you c-cum.”

“Fuuuuuuck,” Tony groaned, swallowing thickly into the phone. 

“I want. When can we? Again? When will you be home, Tony?” the boy pleaded, missing the other man, missing his voice and his smile, the one that reached his eyes. “Can’t you tell me where you are? I could come see you?”

“Not for a while, honey,” Tony sighed, regret lacing his voice. “It’s not safe. Not yet. Not until we know who did this. Not until they’re taken care of.”

“Taken out you mean?”

“Kid,” Tony started, but Peter interrupted again.

“No, I’m. They should be,” he muttered angrily, fingers gripping the phone in a vice-like grip. “I hope they die, after what they did to you.”

“I don’t know what’s caused you’re change of heart, kid, but I want to make it very clear that I want you to stay out of this. Just let my Soldier do his job; he knows what he’s doing,” Tony order firmly. 

Peter wondered if he should mention that ‘Tasha was teaching him to shoot, or that he’d asked Bucky yesterday to show him how to box but settled on keeping it to himself. No need to worry the man just as he was starting the healing process. Who knew how long Tony would be away? Maybe Peter would have the time to get good, really good, so he could impress the man. 

“Don’t worry,” Peter scoffed instead, thinking of the man’s icy demeanor this past week, “I won’t be getting in Steve’s way.”

The older man caught onto the sulking tone right away, sounding more alert than he had the entire conversation, “My soldier been too rough with you, sweetheart? I told him to look out for you while I’m gone. Do I need to have words with him?”

“No!” As if that would help things, Peter thought to himself. He was certain that Tony having ‘words’ with him would only serve to make him angrier, and the boy could do without that, thank you very much. “No,” he said more calmly, “he’s been nice, I promise. Everyone has. He’s just worried about you, that’s all. I swear.”

Tony was silent on the other end, and Peter rushed to defend Steve again, “He came and gave me your present, made sure I knew you were awake and everything. Everything’s fine, Uncle Tony.”

“Alright, kid, if you say so,” the older man exhaled, sounding sleepy. 

“I should let you go,” Peter offered, feeling guilty for getting the man all worked up, so soon after being shot for God’s sake. “You need to rest Tony, so you can come home.”

“Already tired of your old Uncle Tony,” the man teased, causing Peter to roll his eyes with a smile.

“Tired of my Uncle Tony being gone,” Peter murmured softly. 

“Yeah. Yeah me too, kid.”

“Go to sleep, okay?”

“Okay, honey, I’ll go sleep. Come home to you real soon, I promise. Call me tomorrow, same time.”

“Yes, Tony,” Peter whispered, heart feeling lighter than it had in days. “And Tony?”

“Yes, dear?”

“You’re not _that_ old. Like Happy definitely seems way older.”

That earned him a low laugh. “Goodnight kid.”

“Goodnight, Tony,” Peter hesitated, still hearing the other man on the line. “Love you,” he said finally. 

“Love you, Pete.”

The following week was like a balm to the ache that had been left behind by Tony’s accident. Getting to hear the man’s voice every night before bed was the highlight of his day, and half the time they didn’t even need to talk. Sometimes they just watched a movie together over the phone, or Tony called and asked Peter to leave the call going while he slept, claiming to be comforted by the sound of the boy breathing, knowing he was okay. 

It became obvious that Tony had been just as worried about Peter as Peter had been about him, that he was just as eager to see Peter as he was to see Tony. Peter was almost embarrassed by how much he loved that, by how special and loved it made him feel, that someone like Tony had been worried about him. 

But while their daily phone call was a treat, almost a guilty pleasure, he still longed to be near the man. Peter found himself wishing he could be there to take care of him, to fetch him water or meals, to clean his wounds, maybe read to him. But most of all, Peter missed the man’s presence, how he was able to fill a room, the smell him in the air. 

And that’s what gave him the idea to sneak into Tony’s room to borrow a shirt to sleep in. He didn’t think Tony would mind, quite the contrary in fact, but he was too embarrassed to ask permission, just in case he said no. Some people were very private of their bedrooms, Peter knew, and going by what little he now knew of Tony’s reputation, he might have a few things he’d rather Peter didn’t find. 

Still, the idea of talking to his uncle tonight, in bed, wearing a shirt that smelled like him sent a thrill through the boy. Waiting until after he’d finished with Natasha and Clint for the day, Peter went straight to his room and waited until the house quieted. He hadn’t seen Steve at all today, so he reasoned that he must be with Tony.

Figuring it wouldn’t be much longer until everyone came home for dinner, Peter made sure the hallway was clear before tiptoeing to Tony’s room and, finding it blessedly unlocked, let himself in and shut the door silently behind him. He paused, half expecting the door to burst open any second, allowing himself to relax. It’s not like he was trying to steal something valuable; he just wanted one of Tony’s t-shirts to sleep in.

Glancing around the room, he couldn’t help but feel a bit sad when faced with the unnatural stillness permeating the space. The last time Peter had been in here, people had been bustling in and out, Tony’s clothes strewn across the floor, whereas now it was spotless. Reminding himself that he didn’t have an unlimited amount of time, Peter made his way to Tony’s closet, eager to grab his prize and escape back to the safety of his own room. 

He had allowed himself to get lost in the smell of Tony’s cologne, in the softness of well-worn band t-shirts, so much so that he didn’t hear the door opening or the footsteps coming closer. 

“What are you doing in here, Peter?” Steve said harshly, causing the boy to jump from his place on the floor, a shirt grasped guiltily in one hand. 

“I’m not doing anything,” Peter rushed to say, “I’m, I was just-.”

“Just sneaking around, you mean,” the man finished unkindly, striding forward to wrap a large hand around Peter’s bicep, albeit gently, and pulling him out of the closet. 

“Don’t think for a moment that I won’t be telling the Boss about you snooping through his stuff,” Steve warned. 

And something in Peter snapped, straightening his spine, and making him dig his heels in. “He already knows,” the boy lied boldly, eyes not straying from Steve’s, not for a second. 

“The merchant of death gave you permission to go through his room while he ain’t here?” the man questioned dryly, doubt lining every word. 

“Yes,” Peter grit out, determined not to back down. “He asked me to, in fact.”

“Oh,” the Soldier drawled, eyebrows raised mockingly, “he asked you to snoop through his room?” 

“You know, you sure are hot and cold Steve,” Peter burst out, wrenching himself, or rather, trying to wrench himself free from the man’s grip, failing to budge more than an inch. “I know you blame me for Tony getting shot, and I get it, but I didn’t do it on purpose,” he gritted out. “I would never hurt Tony on purpose, and I’d never steal from him or sneak behind his back,” Peter finished, voice at a near shout, body trembling in anger. Who did Steve think he was, anyway, accusing Peter of being a sneak? 

Even if, in the most literal of ways, he was right.

“I never said I blamed you, Peter,” Steve seethed, anger darkening his sky-blue eyes to a glittering sapphire. “Now you can quit trying to change the subject. This is about you being where you shouldn’t be. Tony’s a private man.” Giving Peter’s arm a shake, he continued angrily, “Now tell me why you’re in here, last chance.”

“I told you,” Peter burst out, sticking with his lie, “Tony _asked_ me to!”

“He asked you to go through his closet,” Steve taunted, reaching behind Peter to rip the shirt from his hand. “The Boss risked you finding something you shouldn’t just to get him a shirt?”

Struggling to think of a reply, Peter remembered Natasha’s advice when it came to lying: Stay as close to the truth as possible. “It’s not for him, it’s for me. He wanted me to wear it,” he challenged, allowing a small smirk to curl his lips. 

That seemed to bring Steve up short, glancing from the shirt to Peter, eyes darkening impossibly more. “And why,” the Soldier murmured, “would he want that, Peter?” The hand grasping his arm tightened, pulling the boy closer. 

“I think you know,” Peter said, voice husky as he remembered that man’s eyes on him while he showered, the perfect heat in his groin, Steve telling him to keep going. 

And just like that, a flip seemed to switch in the soldier, anger flashing across his face, throwing Peter for a loop once again. “You sure did take on the role of temptress quick, Peter. You got an angle here? A week ago, you didn’t want to be in the same room as Tony. Now you’re dressin’ up for him?” Steve questioned, advancing on Peter, backing him into the nearest wall. 

“Dressing down, more like,” Peter snarked, anger filling him once more at Steve’s words. Must everyone think the worst of him? He had been upset with Tony, that was true. But he had been confused more than anything. Confused about his feelings towards his uncle, about what they did, about what Tony _was_. But he would never betray Tony. Never. And he was sick and tired of Steve insulting him and he was sick of backing down in the face of the man’s anger. 

“Answer me,” Steve growled, “or you can answer to Tony, because I know you’re lying.”

“I will if you will,” Peter snapped back. 

“For what?” Steve replied, drawing back warily. 

But Peter didn’t let him get far, fingers hooking into the man’s belt loops, one leg lifting to curl around one muscled calve, drawing him inexorably closer into the cradle of his thighs. He seemed to have shocked the man, his grip on Peter’s arm going lax, allowing the boy to reach up and wrap a hand around his neck, leaning close until his lips brushed the Soldier’s jaw as he kept going, kept pushing. 

“For the shower, Steve, for watching me when you shouldn’t have,” he murmured, feeling a shiver go through the larger man, “making me cum when you shouldn’t have.” 

“That wasn’t all me,” Steve ground out, fighting to keep still, to resist the pull of the boy. “You gonna tell him how much you liked it, kid? You gonna tell him that you painted the wall for me, just ‘cause I told you to?”

Peter tried to hide the bolt of fear that ran through him, the possibility of Steve calling his bluff, making him doubt himself, just for a second. But he must have seen something on Peter’s face, something that made him say, “You feel safe letting the Boss know you shot your load for me?”

But in pressing his advantage against Peter, Steve had just tipped his hand, fueling Peter’s resolve. “Do you,” he goaded, shamelessly rolling his hips into the other man’s surprised to feel an answering hardness against his own, “do you feel safe, Tony’s _right hand man_ , his _best friend_ , watching his nephew in the shower, making him cum? You feel safe telling him that, Steve?”

But Steve didn’t answer, eyes glued to Peter’s mouth, drinking in every word and letting the fear it invoked stoke his arousal even more, feeling his cock swell as Peter thrust eagerly against him. 

“I wonder it Tony knows what a little slut his nephew is. What do you think he’d say if he could see his precious boy spreading his legs for me?”

“I hate you,” Peter panted against his neck, hands pulling Steve in harder against him. 

“Slut,” Steve gasped, dipping his head crushing the boy’s lips against his own, growling as the little hellion bit his lip, small hands clenching into his hair. 

A knock on the door interrupted Steve’s thorough exploration of Peter’s mouth, jolting him harshly back to reality. Both froze, eyeing each other warily as they slowly separated. 

“Hurry up, Soldier,” Bucky shouted, “Boss just wanted a few things! We gotta hit the road if we wanna miss traffic.”

“Five minutes, Buck,” Steve called back, eyes never leaving Peter’s, “go pull the car around.”

“We’ll talk about that little display when I get back tomorrow,” Steve warned, eyes narrowed and one finger shaking at Peter in warning. With that he turned and walked into Tony’s closet, his dismissal obvious.

Still catching his breath, Peter’s eyes caught on Tony’s t-shirt crumpled innocently on the floor and he bent to pick it up, hurrying out of the room and back to his own, hoping he wasn’t too late for his phone call with Tony.

Turns out, he wasn’t late, but Tony hadn’t answered anyway. Disappointed and worried, Peter paced the floor in front of his bed, thoughts swirling with what he’d done. What he’d said. He didn’t know what had come over him. Steve had just made him snap or something. When he’d yelled at Peter, obviously believing him to be up to no good, Peter had no other thought except to give Steve a reason to be mad if he was so determined to carry on that way. 

Still, he couldn’t deny that he had put Steve in a terrible position. He had been steadfastly not acknowledging what had happened in the shower a week ago but now the reality was crashing down on him. 

Tony could never find out. He’d be so angry. Angry at Steve. Angry at Peter. He might – he might not want Peter anymore, if he knew that Steve had touched him, even if it was only a kiss. But Tony hadn’t even gotten to kiss him, something Peter could not help but regret. 

Suddenly his phone began to ring, saving him from further deliberation over the matter. 

“Tony,” the boy exclaimed, happy in spite of everything, that he would get to hear the man’s voice tonight. 

“Peter,” Tony hummed, voice sounding uncharacteristically solemn. “What have you been up to tonight?”

“W-what,” Peter stammered, heart beating frantically in his chest, “what do you mean?”

Tony just sighed in a disappointed sort of way, “Steve showed up not too long ago, Pete.” At this he paused, Peter not daring to breath as he waited. “There something you want to tell me, honey?”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals ;)

“There something you want to tell me, honey?”

Peter froze at Tony’s words, scrambling for something to say but his mouth just wouldn’t work. 

He felt so betrayed. He couldn’t believe Steve had gone straight to Tony and…did exactly what he had said he would do. He knew the man hated him, but he had felt certain that he would keep quiet to protect himself, if nothing else. 

But wait – which incident did Steve tell Tony about? Peter going into the man’s room to take a shirt? Or, and at this Peter had to swallow down blinding fear, had Steve told Tony about the kiss? About the way Peter had curled around him and tried to manipulate him into staying quiet?

Peter cursed himself silently. He didn’t know what had gotten into him. One moment all he could think about was Tony and how much he missed him, the next…the next he was climbing Steve like a tree. 

“How long are you planning to keep me waiting here, Pete?”

Well, there was nothing for it now; Steve had called his bluff and now he had to own up to it. 

“I um, I went into your room, Uncle Tony,” Peter drew out, trying to feel out how much Steve had told the man. 

“Yes,” Tony agreed, clearly waiting for Peter to go on. 

“And I-,” the boy hesitated. Should he just come clean? Tell Tony the whole truth and take his chances? How much angrier would he be if he found Peter lying to him? But Peter’s courage failed him, in that moment, so he confessed, “I went into your room uncle Tony, and I went through your closet.”

“I’m a private man Peter,” Tony said solemnly, echoing Steve’s earlier statement. “I don’t appreciate my privacy being violated just because I’m not in the house.”

Peter swallowed thickly and managed to choke out the rest of his confession, “I wasn’t snooping Uncle Tony, promise! I just missed you so much. And before, you didn’t seem to mind, and I wore your shirt and it smelled like you and I just. Wanted to smell you. Just wanted a shirt Tony, I swear, I swear.” 

Peter was sobbing by the end, cursing himself for letting himself cry when he’d promised himself, he wouldn’t, promised himself he would show Tony that he could be strong too. But the older man spoke, interrupting his thoughts once again.

“You just went into my room for one of my shirts,” Tony mused. “You didn’t do anything else?”

“No, I swear, I didn’t take anything else, Tony.”

“Hm, but that’s not what I asked, is it sweetheart?”

“W-what? But I don’t…” Peter stumbled, sure he was caught, sure that Steve had, in fact, told Tony everything and he was busted. 

“I asked if you did anything else, Pete,” Tony reminded him gently, as if Peter’s heart wasn’t about to burst out of his chest.

“You lied, Pete,” the man murmured, voice still so gentle, “I don’t appreciate lies, especially not from you.”

“Tony, I’m sorry, I didn’t – I don’t know,” Peter panted, trying not to hyperventilate, fighting to get himself under control the way ‘Tasha had taught him, but it wasn’t working. For all he knew, now Tony was going to get rid of both him and Steve, for what they’d done. 

“No? You didn’t lie? You didn’t tell Steve that I had sent you in there?”

Freezing, Peter felt relief rush through him, realizing that Steve hadn’t told Tony everything. He hadn’t!

Peter huffed out a frustrated breath, “Okay, well, yeah, I did. But you implied that I had lied to you, Tony, and I didn’t!”

“No?” Tony asked, humor evident in his tone now.

“No,” Peter continued confidently, “I only lied to Steve.”

Tony’s warm laughter flowed through the phone and Peter basked in it, relieved that ‘Tasha wasn’t about to burst through the door and kill him. 

Steve piped up from the background, an offended, “ _Excuse_ me” sounding through the phone, which just caused Tony to laugh even harder. 

“I don’t think,” Tony wheezed between chuckles, “my boy’s afraid of you, Soldier.” Peter could practically hear Steve fuming, but didn’t feel an ounce of remorse about it. 

He’d gone and called Peter’s bluff alright; just not in the way he’d been expecting. He’d known Peter wouldn’t admit what they’d done to Tony, whether out of fear or to protect Steve. Either way, he’d been right; Peter hadn’t had the nerve to fess up.

“Well, sweetheart, I have to admit you gave me a good laugh. But, still, I’m disappointed in you,” Tony admitted gravely, his laughter subsiding.

“I’m sorry,” Peter offered, doing his best to sound contrite, “I shouldn’t have gone into your room without permission.”

“Well, no, you shouldn’t have,” Tony hummed, “but that’s not why I’m disappointed.”

“Then why…” Peter trailed off, allowing Tony to fill him in. 

“You’re gonna get all dressed up for me,” Tony murmured, voice deeper now, dark with promise, “went through all the trouble of stealing, lied to poor Steve, and I don’t even get a picture out of it?”

Dumbly, Peter responded, “What?”

“Send Daddy a picture, honey, in my shirt,” Tony murmured, “and nothing else. Give me and the Soldier a reason to forgive you.”

_Daddy_? The word sent sparks flying through the boy, making him gasp quietly. He couldn’t. He couldn’t take a picture like that, let alone send it. Could he? He never considered that Tony might actually like to see him in his shirt. He’d just been trying to get Steve off his case.

“Don’t keep me waiting, Pete,” Tony warned, “go on.”

“O-okay.”

Stretching out his legs, Peter set the phone on his chest and hooked his thumbs into his boxers, shoving them down to his knees and kicking them off the rest of the way, nudging them over the side of the bed. He’d never taken a picture like this before, and he knew that if he let himself, he’d obsess over every image he took, and he’d never think they were good enough to show Tony. Or Steve. Deciding to get it over with quickly, he stretched his arms out above him, angled the camera enough to show Tony he wasn’t wearing anything else, tapped the button, and hit send. 

“Alright, T-Tony, I sent it,” he whispered, overcome with nerves, afraid Tony was still angry.

Other than a low hum, the line was silent, not helping the boy’s nerves at all. Afraid that he’d messed up, Peter quickly pulled up the picture he’d sent, scanning intently, but he was unable to see anything that would make Ton—. Oh. 

There, peaking out from under the hem of Tony’s shirt, was his cock, resting half-hard against his thigh. Peter groaned inwardly. How could he have known what the word ‘ _daddy_ would do to him? Still, maybe Tony didn’t like it?

“Did you. Did you get it? Tony?”

A harsh groan, wait, make it _two_ harsh groans filled the silence, before Tony choked out, “Yeah, baby, fucking perfect. Look how pretty you look in my clothes.”

Exhaling a sigh of relief, Peter allowed Tony’s approval to wash over him, offering a whispered, “Thank you.”

“What do you think, Soldier? Doesn’t he look pretty,” Tony urged. 

“Boss—,” Steve choked out, but Tony just talked over him.

“Tell my boy how pretty he looks, Soldier.”

Peter could hear shuffling on the other end, a low groan from Steve, “Look real pretty, Peter, wearing nothing but the Boss’ shirt like that.”

“Aw, you should see him, sweetheart,” Tony crooned, “Soldier’s in his favorite position: on his knees for me.”

Peter startled at the words. He’d had no idea that Tony and Steve, that they were. Together? “Tony,” he said quietly, hoping the man would explain, but he just carried on, ignoring the boy’s interruption.

“Been a long time since he was on his knees like this for me, that’s for sure. Used to only do this when he was sayin’ sorry, when he’d messed up big. You’d think he hated it, but I’m telling you Pete, you oughta see him. He’s drooling for my cock; I swear he’ll be beggin’ any second. You wanna see, honey?”

Peter didn’t have a chance to reply before his phone was vibrating in his hand with a notification. Pulling back, he opened the message and moaned, reaching a hand down to his swollen cock, gripping the base tight. The image didn’t show much, but it was enough. Tony was sitting down, cock out, with his knees spread wide, and sure enough there was Steve kneeling between them, his broad shoulders taking up every inch of space. But the incredible part was Steve’s face, eyes blown wide and staring right into the camera, his lips stretched wide to mouth at the bulge of Tony’s cock. 

Jealous ran through him at the sight, at Tony letting Steve touch him, at Steve being the one that got to be there with Tony, that got to touch him. But all it did was make him harder, make him desperate for touch. 

“G-god, Tony,” Peter breathed, running his thumb over the head of his cock, catching the drop of liquid beading at the slit. 

“Yeah, Pete,” Tony panted, “fuck. Go on, Soldier, make your apologies, show me how sorry you are.”

“Is he…?”

Tony moaned, “Yeah, sweetheart, Steve’s getting Daddy’s cock nice and wet. You wanna hear? Listen.”

Soft, wet sounds came through the phone, with Tony murmuring praise in the background, the gentle sounds morphing into obscene slurping and choking as Tony grunted, “Harder, Steve. When I say suck my cock, I mean _suck_. 

Peter was thrusting eagerly into his fist now, panting in time with Tony, completely overcome by the sounds they were making on the other end. But a sharp command from Tony had him gritting his teeth, a desperate whine slipping out between clenched teeth.

“You better not cum, Pete. Stop.”

“No,” he whined, hand stilling on his swollen member. 

“Yes,” Tony’s voice cracked like a whip, even as his grunting grew louder. “Fuck, Steve. Just like that, lemme just fuck your throat, open up. You’re not allowed to cum Pete, not until Steve get’s home. Don’t you know why he’s on his knees apologizing with that pretty mouth?”

“N-no,” he admitted, his mind going back through the last few minutes, trying to pick up any cue that would indicate why Steve was apologizing. Tony had said Steve _used to_ apologize this way. He hadn’t realized he was apologizing now. “Why is he apologizing?”

“You wanna tell him, Soldier,” Tony taunted, drawing another choked gasp from the other man, “or should I?” But all Peter could hear was Steve moaning desperately. “See, Pete, you weren’t the only one that lied tonight. My soldier thought he could keep it to himself. But I have eyes everywhere.”

Peter had no words, his mind hazy with arousal, Tony’s words hard to focus on as he listened raptly to Steve sucking his uncle’s cock. 

“You thought I wouldn’t find out about you kissing my boy, Soldier? Thought I didn’t have eyes in my own bedroom, watching him try to grind that pretty cock against you?”

That was enough to get Peter’s attention, his eyes flying wide at the words, his whole body freezing in fear. “Tony,” he began but the man cut him off.

“I ain’t mad he touched you, sweetheart,” Tony panted, “you aren’t the first boy we’ve had between us. But I don’t appreciate being lied to. So here’s what’s gonna happen, open up Soldier. You’re gonna take care of my boy for me, while I’m gone. And I’m gonna be watching every second. You got it?”

“Yes,” Steve mumbled around Tony’s girth, surprising Peter as the man whined in pleasure. 

“Yeah, that’s good,” Tony murmured, “ you’re gonna swallow my load, and you’re gonna take it home to my boy and let him have a taste. Ain’t that right? And I’m gonna have Jarvis recording every second, you can count on it.”

Having apparently pulled off Tony, Steve gasped out, “Yes, Tony, please, just give me your cum. Please, please.”

“You hear him, Pete? Hear him begging for my load? I’ll take a picture just, fuck,” the older man grunted, the slick sound of Steve choking filling the air again. “Fuck, take my cock, Soldier, fuck!” At that, Tony groaned loudly, Steve’s quiet gasps in the background. 

Peter was breathing heavily, caught between arousal and fear that Tony was angrier than he was letting on, fear that he would kill the both of them the second they touched again. His phone vibrated once again and he eagerly opened the message, gripping his cock in a vice-like grip, ready to blow at the image before him. 

As before, Steve kneeling between Tony’s legs, only this time his face was flushed, eyes clearly watering, with Tony’s white cum running out of the corner of his lips. Peter was shocked at how blissed the man looked, especially after having his throat fucked raw, but he thought he could understand. He remembered his own mouth watering at the sight of Tony’s thick cock the first time he’d seen it. 

“See how pretty he looks, Pete. I’ve got the prettiest boys, don’t I?”

“Yes,” Peter hissed, stroking his cock absently as he studied the picture some more. 

“Remember what I said, kid,” Tony warned, “You don’t cum until Steve get’s home to take care of you.”

“But, Tony, that’s not for hours,” he whined, knowing he sounded bratty but definitely not caring in the slightest at this point.

“Then you wait for hours,” he replied mercilessly.

Desperate, he begged, “Please, Tony, you said. You said I’d get to taste you. I won’t be able to if he waits so long.”

But Tony just chuckled, “Guess I’ll have to let him apologize again before he leaves.”

“But-.” 

“No. Now what do you say, for me letting Steve take care of you while I’m away? You’re getting off pretty easy all things considered, baby boy.”

“Thank you, Tony,” Peter said, meaning every word. Because he still hadn’t quite wrapped his head around the last thirty minutes.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. No, honey, _what do you say_?”

Gulping, Peter allowed himself one last tug of his dick, “T-thank you, daddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I had to share this story from therapy this week. My therapist is the one that encouraged me to try writing something, since it's something I always wanted to do. So when I told her I was writing a story and posting it online she was very enthusiastic about it...
> 
> I didn't have the heart to tell her I was writing porn in my free time lol


	12. Chapter 12

Still on his knees, Steve took his time catching his breath, head resting on Tony’s thigh as the man ran soothing hands through his hair. Tony had been right; it had been a long time since he’d looked after the man in this way. His heart clenched as he forced himself to acknowledge how much he’d missed it, missed taking Tony apart with his tongue, missed his taste, missed being dominated in this way. 

He hadn’t been surprised that Tony had known everything but being assigned as Peter’s plaything had certainly shocked him. Tony might have enjoyed sharing his lovers in the past, but Steve had assumed that the man would be more possessive over the boy. Still, a rush of anticipation filled him thinking about Peter, thinking of their kiss in Tony’s bedroom, the way the boy had curled so deliciously around him. 

Tony’s thigh shifted under his head, prompting him to look up at the man in concern, hoping he hadn’t exerted himself more than he should have. The Boss still had a long way to go until he was completely healed. But Tony just smiled softly, hand coming down to cup his cheek. 

“Alright?”

Steve huffed a quiet laugh, turning to kiss the man’s palm. “It’s never been a hardship to apologize to you, Boss. Makes me think I should stir up trouble more often.”

That earned him a wicked smile in return, Tony dragging him up for a filthy kiss, teeth tugging at his lip, making Steve groan as a slick tongue entered his mouth. 

“Mmm, Pete was right,” Tony murmured, lips brushing Steve’s, his facial hair a gentle rasp on his skin.

“About?”

“I’m gonna need another apology before you leave,” he pouted. “He won’t be able to taste me if you don’t.”

Pulling back, Steve eyed the man wearily, “About that…”

“Hmm,” Tony inquired lazily, drawing Steve back in for another bruising kiss. “You about to tell me it’ll be a hardship looking after the boy, Steve?” 

“A little surprised you’re letting me is all,” Steve admitted sheepishly, one hand going to rub the back of his neck. “Suppose I just want to know the ground rules here.”

“Yes, there are rules,” the older man agreed, pursing his lips, considering as a he traced one finger down his Soldier’s face, head tilted to the side. “Hands only,” he offered.

Steve felt his eyebrows raise in surprise, “His or mine?”

Quirking a smile, Tony drew one hand down Steve’s chest, grinding the heel of his palm against the erection he found there. “Both. But,” and here he turned serious, hand tightening on Steve the slightest bit, “I want his firsts, Soldier. The important one’s anyway.”

“Which one’s do you consider important?”

Groaning, Tony pulled Steve’s mouth up to his again, fingers deftly unzipping his Soldier’s pants and pulling him out, giving a firm tug. “You aren’t getting in that virgin hole before me, Steve, I can’t allow it,” he sighs.

Gasping as Tony starts to twist his wrist at the end, Steve chokes on a laugh. “Obviously. What else?”

“Don’t put your dick anywhere inside him and I don’t want his anywhere inside you,” Tony husked, quirking a smile at Steve’s gasps, “know you like it both ways, Soldier.”

Steve just nodded, finding it difficult to follow along, Tony drawing him closer to the edge. The man removed his hand from Steve’s cock suddenly, earning a desperate whine, only to hold to the man’s mouth, commanding him to spit, before returning to the job at hand, slick sounds filling the room as Steve felt himself shaking apart. 

Leaning closer, Tony spoke hotly into his ear, “You can milk the come out of him with your hands, Soldier, you can finger that tight hole, rub against him all slick, and anything else you can think of. Keep your cock out of him; that’s all.”

Feeling his orgasm building, his imagination creating vivid scenes of the boy beneath him, on top of him, wrapped so sweetly around him, he asked, “Can I taste him? Lick his hole open?”

“Fuck,” Tony panted, his free hand tangling in Steve’s hair, forcing the man to meet his darkened gaze, “no. I want that first too, wanna be the first one to taste that hole, the first one to make him come from a tongue in his ass. Hands only, Steve.”

Without waiting for a response, Tony sped up his strokes, sucking on the spot beneath Steve’s ear in between whispering filthy suggestions, the mention of Peter’s silky thighs sending his Soldier over the edge, his come dripping to the floor beneath him.

Once he’d caught his breath once again, Steve noticed Tony drooping, having used up his reserve of energy for the time being. Blessedly alone in the privacy of Tony’s bedroom in his Penthouse, Steve tucked himself back into his pants and stood, scooping the man in his arms and, ignoring his protests, carried the man back to bed, settling him down gently. 

Regarding the man below him, Steve smirked slightly, allowing himself the liberty of brushing the hair from Tony’s eyes, groaning good-naturedly. “Guess I’ll just have to use my imagination, hm?”

“That’s right,” Tony agreed sleepily, giving a nod. 

“Get some rest, Boss, I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Want you to keep Pepper out,” Tony grumbled.

“You ask too much, Mr. Stark,” Steve teased, settling down in the chair by the window, taking his gun from its holster and taking it apart to clean it.

“Better wake me before you leave, Soldier, need that apology.”

“Yes, Boss.”

*

Peter wasn’t going to survive the night; he was sure of it. He was _aching_ , his cock keeping up a steady stream of precum. He just couldn’t get himself to calm down, the memory of Tony’s words, of the _sounds_ Steve had made, the promise of Steve ‘taking care of him’ so fresh in his mind. 

When he reached the point of either breaking and taking himself in hand or probably just dying, Peter forced himself to get up and turned the shower on the coldest setting, jumping in before he could change his mind. 

Once he’d calmed down, Peter got changed, into his own clothes this time, and cuddled into bed, putting on his favorite sitcom to distract himself until sleep finally took him. 

*

Peter slowly came awake as the bed dipped, pushing up on one elbow as his eyes tried to make out the shape in the darkness of early morning. He caught the flash of Steve’s grin, his heart starting to beat faster in his chest, as warm hands drew him closer.

Steve arranged him easily, settling his head in the crook of one bent arm, the other wrapping around his waist, pulling him snuggly against the other man. Peter exhaled shakily, hands coming up between them, to brace itself against the firm chest in front of him, the other to grasp the man’s shirt, holding tightly. 

“Open up,” Steve murmured, angling his head towards his, noses brushing against one another. “Gimme that mouth honey, promised the Boss I’d let you taste.” 

And with that he slotted his mouth over Peter’s, tongue slipping sensually through his parted lips, rubbing against his own. Peter moaned eagerly, opening his mouth wider, trying to mimic Steve’s movements, sliding his tongue against the other man’s searching for the taste of his uncle. 

“That’s it Peter, know you wanted that taste. Go on, suck on my tongue, get a good taste,” he husked, parting his own lips, flicking his tongue against Peter’s until the boy surged forward, wrapping his pink lips around the mans tongue, just for a moment, drawing moans out of both of them. 

“Steve,” Peter gasped, thrusting his hips forward into the cradle of Steve’s body, excited to feel Steve’s cock against his own. “Please, please, Steve,” he whined, the pent-up lust surging on him again, making him tremble. 

“Where’s your lube, baby? In the nightstand?”

At Peter’s gasped ‘yes’, Steve sat up, fumbling blindly through the drawer before his hands wrapped around the bottle. “Take off your clothes,” he tossed over his shoulder, grinning to himself as he heard the boy eagerly obeying.

“Tony says I can use my hands, so that’s what I’ll do,” he promised, pouring a generous amount of slick into his hand, settling himself back against the headboard. He motioned for Peter to come closer, reaching out his free hand to grasp the boy’s thigh, pulling it astride him so Peter straddled him, his cock bobbing as he got into position.

Wrapping his slicked-up hand around the Peter’s cock, Steve savored the high pinched whimper that left the boy’s mouth. “You got my hand, baby,” he purred, stroking the boy slowly, root to tip. “It wet enough for you Peter?”

“Y-yes,” Peter gasped, his breath hitching, perfect curls sticking to his forehead as Steve worked him. 

Watching the boy fall apart, Steve groaned inwardly. How was he going to stop at just his hands? Reasoning Tony had never said he couldn’t use his mouth on the rest of Peter, just not his precious little cock or that untouched hole, Steve set to work licking a broad stripe up the boys neck, sucking bruising kisses over his pulse points. 

It was oddly erotic, Peter’s slim hips, thrusting eagerly into Steve’s fist, sobbing breaths escaping him, one thumb brushing over a nipple, his face scrunched up in pleasure. Using his free hand, Steve batted Peter’s hand away, pinching one nub between his thumb in forefinger, rolling it gently, noticing how the boy’s cock jumped in his hand. 

Grinning devilishly, the older man kissed and sucked a bath down from the boy’s neck, making his way to the pebbled nub, wasting no time before he sucked it gently into his mouth, letting his teeth worry it just a bit. He allowed himself to feel smug as Peter cried out, begging Steve to stop, begging him for more, begging for harder, faster, more, please. 

“Oh, baby, so sensitive aren’t you? Been waiting so long, waiting to come,” Steve praised him, giving his rosy nipple a gentle bite before switching to the other. 

“I did, I swear, I swear,” Peter whined, hands clenched in Steve’s hair, pulling him impossibly closer. “Wanted to come so bad Steve, you sounded, God, I heard. Heard you, with him in your mouth. I want.”

“Want my mouth? Want me to suck you,” Steve crooned, “huh, baby? Want to fuck my throat?”

“Y-yeah,” Peter breathed, hips fucking even faster Steve’s fist. 

But Steve just hummed, pulling back to offer the boy an apologetic smile, “I can’t baby. Boss’s orders. Hands only, for both of us. So, no matter how much you beg,” Steve whispered, hips lifting to grind the length of his dick against the boy’s pert ass, “I won’t be sucking you, swallowing you, or fucking you.”

The boy was so far gone now, his eyes glazed over, chest heaving with exertion, all he could do was whine in response. Steve took mercy on him, tightening his grip, allowing his thumb to brush the underside of his cock, catching right under the head, once, twice, before Peter screamed, body going tense as his cock pulsed wetly into Steve’s hand, come mixing with the lube dripping from his hand.

Steve wasted no time, wrapping an arm around the boy’s waist to lift him slightly while the other struggled to push his pants down his hips. He wrapped a large hand, the one coated in Peter’s come and lube, around his throbbing cock, slicking himself up before settling Peter firmly on his lap, cock nestled snuggly between his cheeks. 

“Be good, Peter, be good for me,” Steve panted, settling both hands on the boy’s waist, holding him still, “just gonna rub against you, okay?’

“P-please, Steve,” Peter panted, settling more firmly onto Steve’s lap, the girth of the man’s cock against his ass sending a terrifying thrill through him. 

“Good, boy,” Steve praised, gasping as the tip of his cock caught against Peter’s hole, earning a cry of pleasure from the boy. “You like that, baby? You like feeling my cock press against that pretty little hole?”

“Steve, Steve,” he begged, “don’t. Don’t stop, please.”

The Soldier already felt his balls tightening, felt his orgasm rushing toward him at the boy’s begging, at the image of pushing into the pucker of his ass. 

“Yeah, so good baby, too good, you’re gonna make me come,” Steve grunted, holding Peter’s hips even tighter now, raising him up and pulling him down on his cock, mimicking the action he really wants. “Gonna come all over your ass, Peter, and Daddy’s gonna be able to watch it later. He’s gonna see that pretty hole painted in my come. Turn over, quick now.”

Peter obeyed blindly, setting quickly onto all fours, feeling the bed dip behind him as Steve got to his knees, taking his cock in one hand, palming the boy’s ass in the other, thumb brushing against the most perfect hole the Soldier had ever seen. 

“Oh fuck, baby, you should see your sweet little hole, winking at me, just begging to be fucked. Soon, honey, I promise. For now, I’m gonna give it my come, okay, just gonna come on that little hole, Peter.”

Gasping, Peter felt shameless, arching his back and reaching one hand between his legs to jerk his already hardened cock, so close already. “Please, Steve, come on my ass. Please, please, I want it. I want your come on my hole, want your come _in_ in my hole, want your cock. Please, Steve, come on my, please,” he begged breathlessly, the images fueling him, pushing him toward the edge.

Apparently Steve was just as excited by Peter’s begging, because the next thing he knew, the man grunted sharply, hot come splattering across his back, his ass, several drops landing directly on his clenching hole, and Peter fell headlong into his own blinding climax, his come splattering against his thighs.

They both took a moment to catch their breath, Steve running a soothing hand along Peter’s flank, Peter resting his burning face against a forearm. The silence was broken by a third voice, both jumping slightly in surprise.

“Good boys,” Tony praised huskily.


	13. Chapter 13

Soft light shone through the sheer curtains, painting Peter’s ivory skin golden in the early morning. Steve was certain he had never seen anything more perfect in all his life, trailing his large hand up the outside of the boy’s smooth thigh, wrapping around his waist and pulling him in against his chest.

Things had been so tense between them since Tony had gotten shot and while Steve knew it was his own fault, he was still afraid that in the light of day, Peter might not want anything to do with him. And Steve didn’t know what he’d do then, didn’t know how he’d go without touching him, now that he’d had a taste. A perfect, delicious, toe curling taste. Already, his mind was racing with fantasies of the three of them, bodies writhing, skin tasting of salt and sweat, and the heat building between them all.

Steve was determined to have a conversation with the boy, hopefully better than the one he’d had with Tony. Mouthing at Peter’s neck, Steve moved up to his ear, whispering, “Good morning, sweetheart.” 

Peter groaned quietly, turning in Steve’s arms and snuggling into the broad chest, tucking his head under the man’s chin. “No,” he mumbled. 

Steve smiled at how grumpy he sounded, pulling the boy closer and allowing his fingers to play absently along the bumps of Peter’s spine, smile turning smug as the body in his arms trembled, goosebumps erupting along his arms. He was so sensitive, the man marveled, remembering the boy’s second orgasm the night before, the feel of Steve’s come enough to send him over the edge. Perfect. He was perfect. 

Pressing a kiss to the boy’s head, chocolate curls tickled his nose as he replied, “Yes. Time to wake up.”

“Steve,” he whined, drawing out the man’s name and throwing one leg over the other man’s hip, determined to stay like this, just a little while longer. 

“What,” Steve whined back, chuckling as Peter’s face scrunched up adorably at the gentle mocking. “What, baby? What do you want?”

Peter huffed. “Wanna stay right here. Don’t wanna get up, its only been a couple hours.”

“Feels like a part of you is already up,” Steve grinned, nudging his hips against Peter’s cock, earning him a high-pitched whimper. 

Peter rocked into Steve again, making them both moan at the friction. “Mmmm Steve, Steve please,” Peter begged, his slim hips thrusting against the older man in desperate jerks. 

“What, sweetheart,” Steve crooned, trying not to let on how much this was all effecting him, “what do you want?”

Amber eyes shot to his and then lowered shyly, the boy biting his lip as he whispered, “Kiss me? Please?”

“Here,” Steve inquired, the gentle press of his mouth against his neck, “or what about here?” The boy writhed against him as the tongue trailing up his throat shifted quickly to a steady suction, Peter crying out as Steve did it again and again. 

“Nooo,” he panted, “want you to kiss me, Steve. My lips, please Steve, please. Don’t you want to?”

“Oh, I want to, precious boy, but I need you to do something for me first, okay?”

But Peter was already shaking his head, turning pleading eyes on the man, “I-I can’t, I can’t. W-what is it?”

“Poor baby,” Steve smiled, reaching down to thumb at the head of Peter’s cock, smoothing the precum around, delighting in the boy’s shiver. “I just want you to listen, okay? Just listen and answer yes or no, when I ask you a question. Can you do that?”

“A-and then you’ll kiss me Steve,” the boy begged innocently, flaying Steve once again with those doe eyes. 

“Yes, honey, I promise.”

“Okay then.”

“Good boy,” the Soldier praised, rewarding the boy by gripping one supple cheek, pulling him even closer, fingers just brushing Peter’s hole.

“First, I wanted to apologize for how I’ve acted the past few weeks,” Steve said earnestly, making sure to keep his eye trained on Peter’s, holding his gaze. “It wasn’t right, and all I can say is that I acted out of fear. Fear for Tony and fear for you. Fear that you would be next I wouldn’t be able to protect you either. Now, first question kid; can you forgive me?”

“Y-yes,” Peter whispered, his chin trembling even as he struggled to focus, a fever starting under his skin, urging him towards Steve. But he knew he had to be patient, knew Steve wanted him to pay attention. “Of course, I forgive you. I thought you hated me, because it was my fault.”

“No baby, sweetheart, no it’s not your fault, you did nothing wrong I promise. You couldn’t have known Peter. I swear. I saw the blood, on your face,” the older man gulped, “I thought I was you and I have never been so terrified in my life.”

“Then th-thank you, Steve, and you have nothing to be sorry for. Promise.”

“Thank you,” Steve uttered, gazing at the boy reverently, yet again struck by him. He wanted to call it quits right here, kiss the boy senseless, pour everything he was feeling into it, make him understand how precious he was to him. And to Tony. The thought of Tony pushed him to keep going.

“Next question. I wanna make sure you’re okay with all this, me and Tony sharing you. ‘Cause I promise, he won’t stop at hands only. He wants everything with you, kid. That okay? That what you want?”

“Yes, Steve, I want it. All of it,” the boy panted, starting to rub his cock against Steve’s again. 

“Pete, you haven’t had a lot of time to think about this. Are you sure?”

“Yes, Steve, wanted-always wanted him. Please, I know what I want.”

The man felt his eyebrows raise at the boy’s confession, wondering absently if Tony was watching them, hearing this confession himself.

“You always wanted…Tony? Is that it, baby?”

It seemed to just dawn on Peter what he’d admitted, the most alluring blush blooming across his cheeks, eyes widening in alarm. “I-I,” the boy stuttered, body going tense. “I mean, just. I want—.” 

Feeling his own cock jump at this development, Steve decided this conversation was moot. Apparently, Peter was more than okay with Steve touching him, and was, had been, looking forward to his uncle fucking him seven ways to Sunday. There was no point in making sure the boy was truly consenting when in reality, he was gagging for it. Tony really did have all the luck. 

He was obsessed with that blush, the man decided, and Peter had more than earned his reward. Eager to reassure him, Steve craned his neck down, cupping the boy’s cheek and drawing him in until their noses were brushing, and kissed him softly, lips slotting together gently. “Good boy,” he groaned, “such a good boy for me.”

Leaning back in, he kissed the boy again, delighting in his gasp, thumbing his jaw until he opened. Tongues met, sliding slickly along one another, the taste of the kid making Steve growl, pushing him past the point of being gentle. Wrapping chestnut curls in one fist, he tilted Peter’s head just so, slotting their mouths together, and it was so perfect, the way the boy tried to keep up, brushing his lips against Steve’s. 

“Suck my lip,” Steve directed, shivering as their lips brushed lightly when he spoke. “Take my lower lip between yours, sweetheart, and suck, just a little. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” Peter breathed out, his small hand coming up, pulling Steve down to him, absently licking his rosebud lips as they parted on a sigh, wrapping tentatively around the man’s plump lip, applying a gentle suction that went straight to Steve’s cock, his hips jerking into Peter’s.

“Fuck, that’s a good baby,” the man praised, bringing a hand between them to spit, reaching back down to wrap around both of them now, jerking them in tandem. “Now I want you to do that again, and this time, bite it. Okay?”

Steve had barely finished his sentence before Peter was surging forward, holding Steve’s face in both hands, tilting his head and sucking first his top, then bottom lip, hips thrusting faster now as his eyes met Steve’s, drawing his lower lip into his mouth once again and giving a tug, and, encouraged by the man’s gasp, did again only harder this time, diving back in to lave it with his tongue to soothe the sting. 

“Fuck, honey, you’re doing so good. I’m gonna make you so good for your daddy, baby. You’ll know just how to kiss him, suck him, ride him. I’m gonna show you as much as I can, just my hands on you so you’re ready. That sound okay, baby?”

“St-Steve, Steve,” Peter gasped breathlessly, “I’m gonna. I’m so close, please.”

“Yeah, honey, you gonna come in my hand, give me some slick to use? Go on, you can come, wanna see it again.”

“Will you? Will you keep talking. Please, I need. Keep going?”

“Like it when I talk, Peter,” Steve asked, watching as the younger boy nodded desperately, pretty grunts falling from his lips, “wanna hear how much I wanna get in that tight hole of yours? You know what I’d do, right now, if I could use more than my hands? I’d put that pretty mouth to good use, get those lips around my cock and I’d show you how to suck a man, show you how to lick him, swallow him down, teach you to swallow his load. And you’d love it, Peter, I know you would. Boys like you always love the taste of come. You ever taste your own?”

“Yes, yes!”

“So perfect, baby, so perfect for me. Yeah, I’d shoot my load down your throat, make sure you didn’t waste a drop,” he growled, jerking them both faster now, feeling his balls tightening at the fantasy, gripping Peter’s ass tighter now, his middle finger brushing the tight pucker, surprised to find it damp, remembered shooting his come on it the night before and growling, pressing just a bit against the tight hole.

“Your holes still wet from me, Peter, you feel it? Feel my come there? If I could, I’d put your little ass in the air and lick you clean, but the Boss wants that first. I asked, asked if I could taste that perfect ass but he said no. But you know what? You know what he did say I could do?”

“Steve please, please, in me please,” the boy begged. 

Steve continued like he didn’t hear him, knew that if he was on the edge, Peter must be close as well. “Boss said I could put my fingers in you,” he whispered in the boy’s ear, finger circling the rim, “said I could stretch you open on my fingers, said I could make you come that way. I’ll show you how to come with something in you, boy, make you come without a hand on your cock, the best orgasm you’ll ever have is one you get from just being fucked.”

Peter was crying out now, his little cock leaking as Steve kept talking, the man’s voice seeming to hypnotize him, so much so that he could easily imagine his hole stretching open to take a cock, and it was the idea of coming from that alone that pushed him over the edge, Steve’s hand made all the more slick as he tugged Peter through it all, the older man’s orgasm slamming into him a second behind Peter. 

They both lay catching their breath as the world came back into focus around them. Steve was surprised when Peter broke the silence, his voice raw and trembling, “Jarvis, call Tony?” Opening his eyes, his brow furrowed in question, but the boy flashed a small smile, reaching out to brush his thumb over Steve’s mouth, his eyes wide in wonder. 

“That was quite a show, Soldier,” Tony spoke into the room, speaking softly so as not to cut through their post-sex haze. 

“Hm,” the man grunted, “you’re welcome, Boss.”

“You need something from Daddy, honey? That felt good right?”

“Felt so good,” Peter murmured, eyes still on Steve. “But I need more, Daddy.”

“Poor baby, you hear that Steve? My boy needs more,” Tony murmured, a hint of warning in his voice. 

“No, Tony. He can’t give me what I need. You said so,” the boy pouted, and Steve narrowed his eyes, wondering what the boy was getting at. 

There was silence on the other line, Tony taking a deep breath, “You want Steve to fuck you, honey? That what you’re telling me? You don’t’ wanna wait for Daddy, you want the Soldier to be the first to get in that ass?”

“No,” Peter whispered, reaching for Steve’s hand, the one he’d had wrapped around them only minutes ago, come coating his fingers, and brought it to his mouth. “I want you to fuck me, and I don’t want to wait any longer, Daddy.” And with that, he sucked two fingers into his mouth, Tony and Steve choking on a shared gasp, Peter working from one finger to the next as he licked the man’s hand clean, swallowing every drop. 

It took several minutes before Tony could speak again and when he did, he spoke lowly, the hunger evident in his tone, “You know it’s not safe, angel. Not safe for you to come here, not safe for me to come there.”

“When?”

“When what, baby?”

“When,” the boy said simply, “when will you be home?”

“Peter, we’ve talked about this already,” Tony warned, “not until we know who shot me and why.”

“I’m not waiting that long,” Peter growled suddenly, eyes flashing as he pushed Steve onto his back and straddled him smoothly. “I’ve waited long enough for you Tony,” he choked out, “I need you.”

“Pete—,” Tony started, anger coming through crystal clear, but the boy interrupted him.

“No.”

“It’s only been a couple of weeks, baby,” Tony tried, unsure where this Peter was coming from. His boy was usually so sweet, so eager to please. “You can wait just a little bit longer for me, can’t you? I’ll make is so good for you honey, I promise, just me and you the first few times. Don’t you want that?”

“One more week; you have one more week to come home to me Tony,” Peter said calmly, smiling down at Steve as he began to grind onto the man’s lap, undulating sensually. 

Steve himself, was shocked into complete silence. He couldn’t seem to utter a sentence, couldn’t make a sound except to groan helplessly, the sight of Peter moving above him, completely calm, seeming to render him speechless. 

“Or what,” Tony growled, “what will you do, Peter?”

“Were you watching the whole time this morning, Tony?”

“No,” the man said slowly, “I was talking with the doctor. Didn’t jump on until the end. Why?”

“You have a week to come home to me, Tony,” the boy repeated, eyes never leaving Steve’s, “or Steve is going to fuck me, he’s gonna make me come, just like he said he would.”

Tony choked out a disbelieving laugh, “You think my Soldier is going to disobey a direct order, sweetheart?”

“I don’t think he’ll be able to help himself,” Peter mused, wriggling his hips a bit, reveling in Steve’s sharp inhale. “You should feel how hard he is, Daddy. So hard already, and my hole’s already nice and slick for him, and I want it so bad. Who could resist that? Could you?”

“I don’t know what has gotten into you, Peter,” Tony exclaimed, feeling blindsided by this side of the boy. “Why are you doing this?” Tony asked, unable to keep the hurt out of his voice.

Peter sighed, shoulders slumping, “Watch the whole thing, Tony. Watch us from the beginning and you-you’ll know. Why I need you so bad, why I can’t wait another second for you. Please.”

“Baby—.”

“I love you Tony. Jarvis, end the call please.”


	14. Chapter 14

_“Pete, you haven’t had a lot of time to think about this. Are you sure?”_

_“Yes, Steve, wanted-always wanted him. Please, I know what I want.”_

_“You always wanted…Tony? Is that it, baby?” ___

__

__Four days. It had been four days since Peter had uttered those words and Tony had them playing on a constant repeat in his mind. Four days of Peter cornering Steve in hallways, dragging his Solider into an ironically filthy shower, and wreaking havoc on Tony’s libido._ _

__

__The boy just begged so prettily, just like Tony had always imagined he would. For perhaps the first time, he was seriously concerned that Steve wouldn’t be able to follow an order._ _

__

__Four days, and, as hard as it was to admit, Tony was no closer to finding his shooter. It’s not as if he hadn’t been looking into it before the boy’s ultimatum, but he’d definitely upped his game. After all, he’d always done his best work with a reward in mind. And no reward had ever been as enticing as Peter._ _

__

__Peter, who’d apparently always wanted him. Just the idea of the boy pining for him got his blood running. There had always been something about the kid that drew Tony in. He could never decide if it was his brains, or those doe eyes looking at him with such adoration, or that body. Christ. He really needed to focus._ _

__

__Tony’s mind was racing as he took notes, trying to make a list of any recent enemies. Unsurprisingly, the list was already quite long. But his eyes kept coming back to one name. He didn’t think the old man had the balls to send someone to take out the Merchant of Death, but…but the son...the son was an idiot._ _

__

__Tony cursed himself for an fool. In all of this, he’d never stopped to consider that he wasn’t the target. Especially as he remembered Steve saying how close the bullet had come to hitting Peter. On a hunch, Tony called Bucky, his gut telling him he was on the right track here._ _

__

__“Boss,” Bucky greeted, “everything okay?”_ _

__

__“Yeah, yeah everything’s fine here. But I got a question for you.”_ _

__

__“Go on.”_ _

__

__“When you went on your rounds last, did you stop at the Becks’”?_ _

__

__“Yeah Boss, I told you. The old man seemed pretty shocked to hear you’d been shot. Offered some of his guys to come walk the perimeter.”_ _

__

__“Right. But did you see White? You see his dumb kid there?”_ _

__

__There was pause before Bucky cursed. “Fuck. Nah, he wasn’t there, Boss. The old man didn’t even mention him.”_ _

__

__“Yeah, I find that a bit suspicious, don’t you? Seeing as how I shot him just a few days before?”_ _

__

__“Fuck,” Bucky cursed again, breathing heavily. “I’ll find him Boss, bring you his head on a platter.”_ _

__

__“No. I want Nat to start askin’ around, get the word out that we’re looking for him. Then I want you and Clint watching the Beck family. Once it gets around the Widows got her sights on White, I expect they’ll be getting off their asses.”_ _

__

__“If White hears we’re after him, he’s gonna run, Boss.”_ _

__

__“Then we gotta make sure he runs where we want him,” Tony snarked, a menacing grin pulling at his lips._ _

__

__“Okay, and how would you like us to do that?”_ _

__

__“Bait. I’m coming home.”_ _

__

__“Yes, sir.”_ _

__

__Steve’s head made a hollow thump as it hit the wall behind him, but it barely registered as Peter sucked bruising kisses down his neck and chest, discarding his shirt along the way. Four days. Four days of temptation. Steve didn’t know how much longer he could hold out against the onslaught; Peter displayed a relentless determination to kill the older man with sex._ _

__

__God damn, but he was enjoying it. He reveled in every new experience with the boy. He hadn’t dared finger him yet, though he was allowed, too afraid he wouldn’t be able to hold back once the boy was stretched out on his fingers, begging to be fucked. No one could be expected to resist that._ _

__

__Peter sinking to his knees brought Steve back to the present, his grip in the boy’s curls tightening._ _

__

__“We’ve already been over this, kid,” he warned, hoping the boy wouldn’t notice what it cost him to turn this down, “no. That’s Tony’s.”_ _

__

__As he had for the last four days, Peter rolled his eyes, his plush lips settling into a pout. “Or it could be yours,” he teased, leaning forward against the pull of Steve’s hand and nuzzling the man’s crotch._ _

__

__“Fuck,” he gritted out._ _

__

__“Please, Steve, let me. I wanna taste you so bad, please.”_ _

__

__Steve fought to keep his head, already unable to stop the boy as he unzipped his jeans and yanked them down. He had to say no. He had to. He would. In a moment._ _

__

__“I have an idea,” Peter whispered, and Steve whimpered as he felt the boy’s hot breath against his cock through his boxers. “What if I tasted you, but just through your boxers? Would you let me do that? It doesn’t really count, I think.”_ _

__

__Steve had never heard a better idea. Surely Tony couldn’t be upset over this? It’s not as though the boy would be able to take him into his throat. The most he could do was lick him, really._ _

__

__At Steve’s nod, Peter moaned, reaching out a hand to slip under the white cotton and grip his cock, jerking him slowly._ _

__

__“You said through the boxers, Pete,” Steve reminded him breathlessly._ _

__

__“Yes, Steve,” the boy grumbled, rolling his eyes again. “Just wanted to feel you a bit.”_ _

__

__“Alrig—fuck!” Steve broke off as Peter stretched his pick lips over the head of his cock, mouth wet and hot even through the thin cotton._ _

__

__Peter groaned, sucking lightly as he pulled off. “God, Steve, it’s not. Please. It’s not enough. I want you. All of you, please. What about just the tip? I just want one taste, Steve, I swear.”_ _

__

__The soldier could feel his resolve crumbling. He was an idiot to think he could ever be with Peter like this and not want everything, not give the kid everything he wanted. Just as he was about to give in, Tony’s voice once again sounded through the room, making the boy jump back. Steve tried not to feel hurt at the triumph that filled Peter’s eyes._ _

__

__“Very sneaky, Peter, skirting around the rules that way. But you were always clever,” Tony mused. And there was something in the man’s voice, something Steve couldn’t put his finger on._ _

__

__“I did warn you, Tony,” Peter whispered._ _

__

__“Funny. And here I thought you’d said a week. Last time I counted I still had three days._ _

__

__Steve realized this was probably the right time to jump in and apologize. “Boss, I—.”_ _

__

__“Sorry to interrupt, Solider,” he interrupted icily, “but fun time is over. Get cleaned up. I’m on my way. Twenty minutes.”_ _

__

__The boy was dumbstruck, directing a confused, “What?”, at Steve. “Did he? Is he just? Home?”_ _

__

__“That damn fool idiot,” Steve growled under his breath, willing his erection down and striding quickly to Peter’s bathroom, starting the shower._ _

__

__“Steve?”_ _

__

__He sighed. Well, seems the kid got what he wanted. And he was sure Tony was no longer willing to share after that little display. “You might want to clean up too, kid.”_ _

__

__The boy apparently took that as an invitation, slipping in quickly and nudging Steve out from under the spray of water, reaching urgently for the body wash and soaping up, practically vibrating with excitement. He stifled another sigh. Well. It had been good while it lasted. He gave the kid another couple of minutes before lifting him out of the way to finish his own washing up and quickly exited to head back to his own room to change._ _

__

__Twenty minutes later, Steve and Peter were waiting outside in the driveway for Tony, both holding their breath as the car came into view. When it finally rolled to a stop and Tony stepped out, Peter lost his tenuous hold on his patience, shooting forward to hug the man, whispering his name over and over, like a prayer._ _

__

__Meeting Steve’s eyes over the boy’s shoulder, Tony smirked, allowing his hand to settle on Peter’s lower back, pulling him even closer, and whispered in his ear._ _

__

__“Steve, nice to see you again,” the man drawled, still somehow able to strut despite his still-healing wound. The Soldier just barely managed to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the man._ _

__

__“Feels like it’s been a lifetime, Boss,” he said dryly._ _

__

__“Pete, wait for me upstairs,” he ordered, eyes narrowing on Steve. Peter glanced between the two of them before turning to head back inside, Tony next words sending a shudder through them all. “In my room, if you don’t mind, sweetheart.”_ _

__“O-okay, Tony,” the boy whispered, walking swiftly into the house._ _

__

__“Subtle,” he couldn’t help but mutter._ _

__

__But Tony just grinned, making his own way inside, the house already seeming more alive with him in it. “Unfortunately, that will have to wait, Soldier. We need to talk.”_ _

__

__An hour passed before they exited Tony’s lab, Steve emerging in a haze of muted rage. He couldn’t believe he’d never considered Peter was the target in the first place. He couldn’t believe the damned idiotic plan Tony had concocted to use the boy as bait. But more than anything, he couldn’t believe that Tony had set this whole plan in motion without telling him about it first. They’d never run a play like this without talking it through first._ _

__

__The Boss had given him his orders, however, and in light of the most recent order he had disobeyed, he was eager to get started. Ready to get to work, clear his head, and get away from that kid before he did something really stupid. But Tony threw a rock in his plans once again, “Your orders can wait, Soldier. I have a more pressing job I need you to do.”_ _

__

__“Something more pressing than tracking down the man who shot you, and ringing his neck?” He asked, trailing slowly behind Tony as he made his way to his bedroom, apprehension settling in his stomach._ _

__

__“Oh, definitely. I need you to guard the door,” he smiled, face the picture of innocence._ _

__

__Steve narrowed his eyes, arms coming up to across his chest, “Seriously? You’re gonna make me stand here and listen while you fuck the kid?”_ _

__

__“Language,” Tony mocked gently, eyes softening. “I’m not mad about earlier. Technically, _technically_ , you didn’t disobey any orders. Shoulda known the kid would find a loophole.”_ _

__

__“Then why do you want me to guard the door? You got over forty men in this house right now. You that worried?”_ _

__

__“Of the Beck family?” Tony scoffed. “No. And I don’t want you to stand outside the door. I want you inside,” he finished, eyes sparkling._ _

__

__“Great. I get to _watch_ you fuck the kid. Can’t wait.”_ _

__

__Tony threw his hands up in the air, letting out a groan of exasperation. “Dear God,” he laughed, coming forward to cup Steve’s face between his calloused hands, “I want you inside, all of us, together. The ‘guard the door’ thing was more of a euphemism.”_ _

__

__“Christ, what is the ‘door’ in this?”_ _

__

__Brow furrowed, Tony shrugged, “I don’t know, really, the kid’s ass, maybe?”_ _

__

__“Why would you want me in there, guarding his ass, when you’re planning to get in it?” Steve laughed, his heart aching with how much he missed this man every day._ _

__

__“Oh my God, Steve, come help me fuck the kid, okay?”_ _

__

__“Alright, jeez, no need to beg, Tony. Makes you sound desperate.”_ _

__

__Tony gasped in mock affront, eyes dancing, so beautifully alive. Steve stole a quick kiss, unable to help deepening it as the man whimpered quietly. “It’s your show, Boss. How do you wanna do this?”_ _

__

__A wicked grin curved his mouth, “I think we’ll start where you two left off, hm?”_ _

__

__“Yes, daddy,” Steve grinned, giving the man’s ass a light slap as he walked into Tony’s room, the other man right following closely behind. Peter’s nervous pacing halted as the door opened, launching himself once again at Tony._ _

__

__“Missed you, missed you so much, Tony, Tony,” he chanted, tears falling softly._ _

__

__“Hmm, Daddy missed you too, sweetheart,” Tony murmured, face tucked tightly in the boy’s neck, just breathing him in. Pushing him back, he asked simply, “What do you want, baby?”_ _

__

__“You,” he breathed._ _

__

__“And Steve? You want him too honey?”_ _

__

__“I didn’t – I didn’t know I could?” Peter seemed hesitant, afraid to say what he really wanted, and Tony couldn’t have that. Peter would have anything he wanted._ _

__

__“Why don’t I tell you what _I_ want, and then you can tell me if that’s what you want too?”_ _

__

__“Yes,” he nodded gratefully._ _

__

__“I want you slobbering on Steve’s cock, just like you were this morning, through his boxers,” Tony murmured huskily, one hand coming to rest on Peter’s ass, “and while you do that, I’m going to taste this pretty hole.”_ _

__

__“That. I want. Yes. That. Please, Tony?”_ _

__

__“Ah, ah, not Tony here, sweetheart. What do you call me when we’re like this?”_ _

__

__Peter swallowed, eyes fully dilated, “Please, Daddy?”_ _

__

__“Please what, baby?” Tony teased, skimming his fingers under the boy’s shirt, lifting it up and over his head seamlessly._ _

__

__“Please Daddy, lick my—my hole. Please Daddy,” he begged, breath hitching as Tony played with his nipple._ _

__

__“Good boy, Pete. Now,” he turned the boy to face Steve, tongue licking around the shell of his ear, “beg Steve to let you suck his cock.” He chuckled as Peter hesitated, suddenly too shy._ _

__

__“Go on, honey. I promise he’ll say yes. No one could say no to that mouth.”_ _

__

__“P-please, Steve, can I? Can I suck your cock?”_ _

__

__Tony rewarded him, flicking open the button on his jeans and cupping the boy’s dick, squeezing until he whimpered, mindlessly humping into Tony’s hand._ _

__

__Steve padded forward, coming chest to chest with the boy, and pushed him slowly to his knees. “Yeah, kid, only there’s just a little problem, Boss.”_ _

__

__“Hm?”_ _

__

__“Forgot my underwear this morning,” he grinned, eliciting a laugh from the other man._ _

__

__“Well, that is a problem isn’t it. I guess I could let him suck you bare, only…”_ _

__

__“Only…?”_ _

__

__“Beg me,” Tony whispered, grabbing Steve by the back of the neck and yanking him into a wet kiss. “Beg me to let him suck your cock, Steve, go on.”_ _

__

__“Fuck,” Steve panted, pressing his mouth to Tony’s again, “please. Please, Tony, let him suck my cock. You’ve seen him. He’s gagging for it.”_ _

__

__“Such good boys I have. Alright, Steve, you can have his mouth first.”_ _

__

__“Thank you,” he whimpered, pulling back to glance down at Peter, on his knees, cock out and tugging on it slowly. Unzipping his pants, Steve drew out his cock, groaning as he pumped it a few times. “Open up, Peter.”_ _


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this has been worth the wait! Thank you for all the comments and kudos, they mean the world!

Tony was a bad man. He was a bad, bad man teasing Steve this way. Sitting in a chair diagonal from the bed, Tony watched the other man, sprawled at the foot of the bed, knees spread, and hands fisted in the comforter as he and Peter awaited instruction. Having Peter suck the man off while on his knees between them had been tempting, but Tony wanted to see it, wanted to watch each pass of Steve’s cock between the boy’s lips and had gleefully arranged them to his satisfaction.

Peter’s whimper interrupted the man’s thoughts, shifting restlessly on his knees he whined, “Tony, you said, you said we could. Come on, please.”

“So perfect,” Tony murmured, his eyes gleaming in triumph. Only in his dreams had he imagined Peter so eager, so willing. “We’re gonna go real slow for you, sweetheart, okay? Want to take my time.”

“In other words, you’re trying to kill me,” Steve muttered wryly. 

“You hear that, kid? Sounds like Steve is as impatient as you. Guess I’ll have to teach the both of you a lesson,” he said, grinning at the twin sounds of frustration. Deciding to have just a bit of mercy on the both of them, he continued, “To begin, I think you are both entirely over-dressed. I want you naked. Strip.”

The two shared a glace before hastily shucking their clothes, laughing quietly as knees bumped shoulders and hands brushed. Tony allowed himself a private smile at the scene. They so obviously cared for one another, and he was glad for the chance to have both of them, together this way. A small part of him cried out in jealousy, that Steve had had more of Peter than he had but he pushed it down. Instead he rushed to get things moving. 

“Kiss your Soldier, Pete, give him a taste,” Tony husked, leaning back in his chair and palming his dick. 

Peter leaned in obediently, parting his soft mouth, and caught Tony’s gaze the second before their lips met, never breaking eye contact as Steve ravaged his mouth. The Soldiers large hands settled on his back, grasping, pulling him closer, but Peter never took his eyes off Tony, watching hungrily as the man unbuckled his belt, popped the clasp on his pants, and reached inside with a groan. The boy whimpered as Tony offered a slow smirk. 

“Fuck,” Steve panted, pulling away, “you like watching daddy touch himself, baby? Come on, give me another taste, gimme that tongue.”

Peter sank into the man, tilting his head just so, and sliding his tongue along Steve’s, reveling in the pleasure spreading along his skin. Steve just tasted so good, the scratch of his stubble making Peter feel frantic, whining in disappointment when the man pulled away again. But Steve only wrapped an arm around his waist and hoisted him up, Peter’s knees spreading to make space for the man as he straddled his lap.

Peter was gasping as their cocks met but Steve didn’t pause, ducking his head once again and claiming his mouth, both hands coming to palm his ass, massaging and spreading the firm cheeks. They went on that way for an indeterminate amount of time, their low moans the only sound in the room, before Tony spoke up once again.

“Enough, boys, enough teasing,” Tony groaned, “get your mouth on that cock, boy, thought you were gagging for it.”

Peter looked to Steve, grinning at the man’s nod and sliding down, squirming until he was in position between the man’s thighs.

“Fuck, kid,” he breathed, threading a hand through chestnut curls and urging the boy closer, grunting as Peter went eagerly, nuzzling into the man’s groin. Peter opened his mouth, sucking kisses on the skin of Steve’s inner thighs, pulling back open wide for the man’s cock. But Tony had other ideas. 

“Balls first, kid, gotta tease him a bit.”

“Thought,” Peter panted, “thought you said enough teasing, daddy?”

“Changed my mind. Go on, take one in your mouth, real gentle, and give a little suck. Go on.”

Peter went with Tony’s urging, flicking his tongue against one, then the other, before sucking it into his mouth, delighting at the feel of Steve’s thigh muscles trembling. 

“Good boy,” Tony breathed, “keep going, the other one now.” Yet again, the boy obeyed, moaning as he took Steve’s other testicle in his mouth, rolling it along his tongue and groaning. 

Steve choked out another groan, hand fisting in Peter’s hair to pull him off his balls, “Fuck, Boss, I can’t. Fuck. I need his mouth. Please, let me, his mouth.”

“Yeah, Soldier, go on, fuck that mouth,” Tony growled, his own breathing growing harsh. 

“Open nice and wide for me, kid, tongue out,” Steve instructed, tapping his cock against Peter’s tongue, teasing them both. “Now wrap those pretty lips around me, nice and soft, Pete. Good boy, so good, now lick the head, just like that baby, so good for me.”

Peter moaned at the praise, pushing down farther, taking more of Steve’s length until he gagged, and pulled back up, sucking the whole way. “Like that, Steve?”

The man didn’t answer, just pulled Peter back, starting a slow rhythm fucking into the boy’s mouth. Every time the boy gagged, Steve went faster, groaning as he fucked his mouth in earnest now, feeling his balls tighten as Peter drooled on his cock. “Fuck, kid, gonna make me cum.”

“Get on your knees, sweetheart,” Tony directed quietly, “keep sucking him.” Peter glanced at him in question but obeyed, shifting onto his knees, ass in the air, as Steve continued to thrust in and out of his mouth. Once again, Peter got lost in the pleasure of being used, his jaw burning and eyes watering, cock throbbing in time to every thrust. 

Absently, he registered the bed dipping behind him but focused on sucking Steve each time he pulled his hips back and keeping his mouth soft when he pushed back in. Suddenly, he cried out, bumping forward in surprise, taking Steve to the root, as a slick tongue licked over his hole. 

“Oh, shit, Boss, fuck, he took every inch,” Steve gasped, fist tightening in Peter’s hair as he kept him in place, throat pulsing around his cock. 

“Oh, yeah? What a good boy you are,” Tony spoke, lips brushing against his pucker, beard scraping the sensitive skin, “taking Steve’s cock. You sound so good choking around dick, baby. You want Steve to cum? Want him to fill up that mouth?” Peter nodded, gasping for air as Steve let him pull back. “Yeah, knew you were a slut, hungry for cock and cum. Go ahead Steve, make sure he swallows it, every drop.”

Steve nodded, thrusting into Peter’s mouth a few more times before pulling him down to the base, the boy gasping Steve’s cock pulsed in his mouth, choking as the bitter fluid filled his mouth. Tony reached a hand around and tapped his cheek, reminding him to, “Swallow. Every drop sweetheart.” Looking up into Steve’s eyes, the man’s softening cock still filling his mouth, Peter gulped, swallowing Steve’s load. 

He continued to suckle him, making sure to lick every drop from the man until Steve pushed him away with a whimper. But Tony wasn’t wasting any time, diving back in to lick at Peter’s hole, going until the boy was a mess beneath him, gasping wordlessly, his cock leaking in a steady stream onto the bed beneath them. 

“Steve,” Tony whispered, nodding toward his nightstand, “lube.”

Peter picked his head up at that, turning blearily to his uncle, “Tony?”

But Tony just hushed, rubbing a soothing hand along the boy’s flank as he took the lube from Steve. “Not just yet, sweetheart. Need to stretch you a bit first, okay?” Smiling at Peter’s huff of frustration, the older man wasted no time slicking up his fingers and rubbing around his rim, pushing slowly.

“I know this is another first, just for me, hmm, sweetheart? You saved this just for daddy, right?” he probed, working his finger smoothly in and out of Peter’s tight entrance. “So tight for me, such a good boy,” he praised reverently. “Gonna give you a second one new baby, just relax.”

Peter cried out as a second finger breached his opening, stretching him even further. He felt like he was on fire, heat spreading across his skin, everywhere Tony touched him. Looking up the length of Steve’s body, he was surprised to find the man already hard once again and, keeping his eyes on the Soldier’s, leaned forward and took the head of his cock in his mouth once more, sucking gently. Blue eyes speared through him, turning sapphire in their intensity as Steve growled at the sight before him. 

“Are you taking my Solider again?” Tony laughed. 

“Tastes so good,” the boy mumbled around the cock in his mouth. Reaching a hand between the boy’s legs, Tony grasped his cock, jerking him slickly as he added a third finger, delighting as Peter’s body couldn’t seem to decide between humping forward into Tony’s hand or pushing back on his fingers. 

He allowed the boy a few more moments before pulling away completely, grabbing the lube and slicking up his cock. Wrapping his hands around slim hips, Tony gave a small yank, jerking Peter back, fitting his cock in the crack of the boy’s ass, teasing them both.

Steve’s dick left the boy’s mouth with an obscene pop, as amber eyes turned to meet his own. Tony waited for Peter’s nod before beginning to push in, gritting his teeth against the pleasure. He couldn’t remember being inside someone this tight before. He was just starting to think he should’ve prepped his boy more when Peter went boneless, his chest sinking further into the bed as he moaned, one delicate hand working his dick fervently. 

“Please, daddy, please keep going,” he begged, his free hand clawing at Steve’s thigh. “Fuck me, want it so bad, want you please.”

“Fuck,” Tony breathed, giving in and sinking to the hilt, hands gripping Peter so hard he was sure there’d be bruised. “Fuck, that’s right, sweetheart, you just take it. Just like that, pretty ass in the air, letting daddy’s cock split you open. And you love it, don’t you baby?” He’d found a rhythm now, dragging his cock out slowly, and pounding back in, Peter a greedy mess beneath him. 

“Yes! I love your cock, daddy, I knew I would. Knew I’d be so good for you, please faster daddy, I can’t,” he panted, “gonna cum, please, please.”

Glancing at Steve, Tony cursed at the scene before him. Sprawled on his back, legs spread, and his golden skin on display, Steve was a vision, eyes narrowed into slits as he jerked himself, his other hand tangled in Peter’s curls. He was the luckiest bastard in the world.

Tony leaned over Peter, adjusted his angle and picked up speed, a constant stream of begging falling from the boy’s lips. Licking up the shell of his ear, he gave a little nip and whispered, “Such pretty sounds you make, honey, sound so good begging for my cock but you know what sounds better? When you’re choking on Steve’s cock. Go on, you got him leaking with the show you’re putting on.”

“Yes, daddy,” Peter moaned, opening wide as Steve guided himself inside, pulling the boy down until Peter’s lips were wrapped around the base. 

“Good boy,” both men breathed, Tony once again losing himself in the vice-like grip Peter’s hole had around him, feeling the pleasure pooling at the base of his spine. 

“Want you to keep your mouth open just like this, kid,” Steve instructed, framing Peter’s face with both hands, “just like this, and you’re gonna let me fuck your face, okay?”

His mouth was too full to speak but he whined enthusiastically, bobbing his head as much as he could. Throat burning, eyes watering, and dick so hard he could scream, Peter was in ecstasy. With every thrust, Tony was hitting his prostate. He worked his cock even faster, chasing his release, but Tony’s hand clamped around his wrist and pulled it behind his back.

“Hush, hush,” Tony soothed as Peter whined, “I’m gonna let you cum, don’t worry. But you’re gonna cum from daddy’s cock, you hear me?” In response, the boy pushed back on Tony’s cock, making the man’s vision blur. “Oh yeah, I think you’re real close, aren’t you baby? I think if I pound this hole just a little harder, you’ll soak my sheets.”

With that he pulled almost all the way out, and snapped his hips forward, Peter choking as Steve’s cock was shoved further down his throat. He did it again, twice more, the next thrust causing Peter to clench down on his cock almost painfully as he screamed, the sound muffled by Steve’s cock in his mouth, as he came, cum pooling beneath him. Tony grit his teeth, unable to take his eyes off Peter’s hole, clenching rhythmically on his cock. 

“Aw, fuck sweetheart, keep doing that,” he breathed, feeling his balls drawing up as the boy obeyed, tightening his hole. “Good boy. Want you to milk daddy’s cock, fuck, just like that, so pretty. Love watching that pretty hole trying to pull the cum right out of me.”

Peter pulled off of Steve’s dick to beg, “Please, daddy, fuck me, gonna cum again. Need you. Fuck me harder, please, want your cum.”

The boy’s pleas had his hips moving of their own volition, pounding relentlessly into Peter’s ass until his orgasm slammed into him, his vision whiting out as he hissed through clenched teeth. 

Once he’d come back to himself, Tony glanced down, his dick twitching as he took in the sight of his cum dripping out of Peter’s puffy hole and running down one milky thigh. 

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered, using his thumb to push the cum back into his hole, smirking as he noticed Peter’s cock still hard, bobbing as he pushed back, chasing Tony’s thumb.

“You need more, sweetheart? Need to cum again?” Peter keened, body covered in sweat and cum, and nodded, tilting his head to suckle at Steve’s cock. Tony kissed a trail up the boy’s spine and gave his ass a slap. “Better ask nicely, then.”

“Please, daddy, make me cum, please,” the boy chanted breathlessly.

“No, no, no. Not daddy,” Tony whispered, “ask your soldier if he’ll fuck your slutty little hole.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY it took so long! But I swear I haven't forgotten this fic, nor will I!

“Ask your Soldier if he’ll fuck your slutty hole,” Tony murmured, eyes never leaving Steve’s.

Doe eyes travelled up his body as the boy nuzzled his cock, lips dancing lightly across the sensitive skin. Steve threw his head back and tightened his grip on Peter’s hair, now dripping with sweat. “Ask,” he ground out.

“Will you,” Peter began, pausing to lick his lips, and Steve wondered if he could taste the salt from his cum, “will you fuck me Steve?”

“I don’t think those are the words I told you to use honey,” Tony warned gently, slipping two fingers into the boy’s dripping hole with ease. With their eyes meeting, Steve watched in awe as Peter melted, his eyelids fluttering as he fought to keep them open. 

“Please,” he cried out, bracing a hand on Steve’s hip, “p-please will you fuck my slutty hole, Steve? Please?”

“You just had your Daddy’s cock,” Steve began, watching intently for any hint of disappointment as he asked, “wasn’t that enough for you?” His heart clenched as Peter shoulders drooped and his eyes drifted somewhere behind him. 

“You don’t want to?”

Feeling like the worst sort of ass and determinedly avoiding Tony’s incredulous glare, he sat up, wrapping an arm around Peter’s waist, and pulled him into his lap. Cupping his neck, he kissed a gentle path up the boy’s neck to his ear, growling, “Oh, I want, angel. Want to finally slip into that tight ass, want to add my cum to Daddy’s, fill you up. You want that, baby? You want your Soldier’s cum filling you up too?”

Peter was already writhing in his arms, pressing his slim chest against Steve’s broader one, and he pressed his lips to Steve’s desperately, sucking and biting just like he’d shown him. “Like this Steve? Can we? Just like this?”

“You hearing this, Daddy? He wants to ride my cock just like this,” he groaned, looking over Peter’s shoulder at Tony, who was sitting back on his heels, palming his cock absently. 

“You will give him whatever he wants, Soldier,” Tony growled, “exactly how he wants it. Go on, show him how to ride a man’s cock.”

Steve didn’t waste any time, palming one pale globe in each hand and lifting the boy up. “Go on,” he whispered, “line me up.” Peter obeyed, reaching behind him for Steve’s cock and placing the tip against his hole. The boy’s eyes clenched in anticipation at the contact. Just the touch of Steve’s cock against him had his hole winking, and the older man grinned at the response. 

“Oh, it’s perfect Soldier,” Tony breathed, taking in the sight before him. Peter’s perfect little hole was practically begging to be fucked. He reached out and pressed, with his thumb, the tip of Steve’s cock against the boy, and watched as the tight pucker clenched rhythmically, as if it were trying to draw Steve in. “Push in,” he directed.

With his face buried in Peter’s neck, Steve held him still as he pressed up, both releasing a cry as he breached his opening, clutching each other all the tighter. “God, just. So perfect, baby, so wet for me. Just breathe, take a little more for me,” Steve praised breathlessly. It was taking all his willpower not to flip the boy over and make him take his cock to the root. But he could feel Peter’s wet gasps on his shoulder and willed himself to take it slow. Steve had been on the receiving end of a fucking from Tony Stark several times, and he’d been known to walk away sore each and every time. 

“You’re doing so good, Pete,” he praised again, rubbing soothing circles up the boy’s back and pressing his mouth below his ear, sucking gently. He continued until Peter sighed in pleasure, turning his head to catch Steve’s mouth with his own. 

“More, Steve, I need it. Gimme more,” he whined, pressing his ass down onto Steve. The man choked on a gasp as Peter’s hole swallowed inch after inch, until his bottom met Steve’s thighs. All three groaned in unison. 

Steve felt the bed dip and opened his eyes to Tony wrapping himself around Peter’s back and spreading his thighs to straddle Steve’s, settling back on his knees. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, “Are you waiting in line, Daddy? You expecting me to fuck you next?”

“I thought I’d help Peter out, show him the ropes, “ he laughed, both hands coming to grip the boy’s hips. “Now honey, I’m gonna move you just how he wants, you gotta roll your hips just like this.” With that, Tony pressed even closer to Peter and began the movement with his own hips, pulling and pushing the boy along with him. For Peter’s part he let out a steady stream of cries and gasps, his nails digging harshly into Steve’s shoulders. 

“Christ,” Steve bit out, interlacing his hands with Tony’s on the kid’s hips, setting a faster pace. 

“Yes,” Peter hissed. His cock was bobbing against his stomach as he writhed atop Steve. “Yes, Steve, s-so good. Gonna cum.”

But Steve wasn’t through with him yet. “Stop,” he barked. Peter’s eyes fluttered open to meet his. “You should know by now you don’t cum until we say so. Understand?” The boy nodded warily. “Good slut. Now turn around; I want to see.”

Tony helped the boy get situated and Steve pressed back in, gasping at the sight of that little hole stretching open for him. It was almost comical how big Steve’s cock looked shoving into Peter’s ass. “Gimme your hands, baby. Good, now ride my cock honey, up and down. That’s it, that’s a good boy.” Steve thought he could watch Peter bouncing on his cock for the rest of his life. “Come see this Tony, come watch.”

Tony left his position kneeling in front of Peter and stretched out on his side beside Steve, reaching out to massage the man’s balls. “Oh, fuck me, would you look at that,” he mused. 

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” Steve breathed, finally allowing himself to thrust into Peter, seeing stars each time he bottomed out. Glancing beside him as Tony jerked himself, he asked, “You close, Daddy?”

“Fill him up, Soldier, I’m next.”

“You hear that baby, Daddy’s gonna give you another load in that sloppy hole. What do you say?”

“Yes! Please, please keep fucking me, please, please,” Peter babbled, clenching down on Steve’s cock like a vice now as he tried to hold of his orgasm, but the man was hitting his prostate every other thrust and he didn’t think he could hold on any longer. “Please may I come? Please, please?”

“Yeah baby boy, shoot your load while I fill you up.”

Peter began riding Steve even harder, rising up onto his knees and slamming back down into each upward thrust, screaming out as the man pounded into him, his back arching as his third orgasm hit him. Dimly he heard Steve finding his own release.

“Fuck,” he cried out, feeling his balls tightening as he pulled nearly all the way out and erupted, his dick jumping with each spurt of cum he poured into the boy. It felt like he’d been coming for minutes by the time he pulled out, hissing as the tip caught against Peter’s rim. 

Tony sat up and threw a leg over Steve, pushing Peter’s head and chest to the bed so his ass was in the air. “So fucking hot, honey, so fucking good for me, bouncing on Steve’s cock like you were made for it. Come on, take Daddy’s cock one more time, just for a minute baby, s’all it’s gonna take.”

“Yes, yes,” Peter chanted, reaching back and pulling his cheeks apart. “More daddy, fill me up with your cum.”

Tony growled, pushing in savagely, so that Peter was flat on his stomach, his faced pressed into the mattress. “More? You want more cum in this hole? You love it, don’t you sweetheart? You were made to walk around with cum leaking out of you,” he snarled, snapping his hips roughly. “I’ll give it to you, slut.”

“Yes! Yes, give me your babies, daddy,” Peter keened. 

Tony jerked at the image that painted and had to stop himself from coming on the spot. “Oh fuck, turn over, sweetheart, quick.” Peter obeyed as Tony slid up his body, jerking his cock until rope after rope of cum splattered across the boy’s face, painting it in white. 

Tony flopped down on his back beside Peter, all three trying to catch their breath. Peter spoke first, “Why? O-on my face,” he asked shyly, turning on his side toward his uncle. 

“It’s your fault kid,” Tony sighed, “the thought of knocking you up just made me want to cover you head to toe in my seed, make sure everyone knew it was mine.”

Peter frowned thoughtfully, absently thumbing a splatter of cum off his eye and sucking on it. 

“You’re both freaks,” Steve muttered exasperatedly, causing all three to start laughing. 

But their joy was interrupted by a knock at the door. “Boss,” Winter called out, “one hour!”

“You know who it was then,” Peter asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“And you’re going to go kill them now?”

“Not quite, angel,” Tony murmured. “In fact, he’ll be coming to kill me in about an hour.”


End file.
